


Once There Were Giants

by gemjam



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: F/M, M/M, Mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 05:19:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 26,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gemjam/pseuds/gemjam
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A drunken night to celebrate a triple championship win is easily forgotten, until a small problem arises nine months later.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once There Were Giants

**Author's Note:**

> I simply cannot give enough thanks to zeraparker not only for the beta but for her patience and encouragement and all of her help plotting this thing. It would not exist without you dear!
> 
> Written for the following prompt at motorskink:  
> Seb and Christian have way too much champagne at the party and one thing leads to another....nine months later they must deal with the consequences...bonus points if they don't figure out one of them's pregnant until it's time to deliver.

So many things about the celebrations feel unreal to Christian that ending up in Sebastian’s hotel room seems like a perfectly reasonable conclusion to the evening. He sits on Sebastian’s bed, the room swimming around him, and Sebastian starts to giggle.

“My face is on your T-shirt.”

Christian looks down at himself, those intense eyes looking back at him from beneath the visor before they’re covered with Sebastian’s hand. Sebastian pushes, toppling Christian easily over, unbalancing himself at the same time so that he ends up sprawled messily over Christian. Sebastian’s breath smells like champagne and beer and brief visions of a hangover play through Christian’s mind. It occurs to him that the situation they find themselves in is funny but neither of them laughs.

He doesn’t trust his perceptions enough to know exactly what happens next. He’s not sure if he initiates the kiss, but he definitely doesn’t stop it. He definitely slides his hand into Sebastian’s hair and holds on tight while he uses his lips and tongue to demand more.

He feels like he’s suffocating, drowning in Sebastian, in the layers of clothing between them, in the bed that seems to be swallowing him up. He grabs at Sebastian’s clothes, trying to find the flesh beneath, wanting to devour him. It’s like a need, sudden and urgent and all consuming. Everything comes into sharp focus and he arches his body upwards, moaning at the feel of Sebastian hot and heavy above him.

Sebastian pulls back, lips wet and swollen and parted. He stares at Christian for a moment, clearly on the verge of saying something, and then he dips his head back down again, sucking on Christian’s neck. Christian manages to get a hand under Sebastian’s T-shirt, fingertips sliding over skin prickled with sweat. Sebastian gasps, hips grinding instinctively downwards, the friction against Christian’s cock making his eyes threaten to roll back in his head.

Sebastian mutters something against his flesh and Christian can’t quite work out if it’s in a language he doesn’t understand or if everything has just stopped making sense to him. He’s more concerned with getting his other hand inside the tangle of Sebastian’s shirt right now anyway. He succeeds, making a pleased noise and wondering why they aren’t kissing anymore but he doesn’t have a spare hand to coax Sebastian into lifting his head and those lips do feel admittedly nice against his neck, even if he does suspect they’re going to leave marks.

Christian slides his hands upwards, bunching Sebastian’s T-shirt up under his armpits, trying to uncover the biggest expanse of skin that he can. Sebastian lifts his head, apparently deciding to take pity on Christian’s fumbling attempts as he strips off his own T-shirt, tossing it aside. Christian’s hands roam over the expanse of skin he suddenly finds himself presented with, Sebastian watching the way they move over his chest and stomach like it maybe makes him dizzy. He grabs for the hem of Christian’s shirt, pulling upwards, Christian clumsily sitting halfway up to help him get it off.

“Bye bye, Seb,” Sebastian says as he throws the T-shirt across the room, a little breath of laughter falling from his lips.

Christian gazes up at him and Sebastian’s face turns more serious. He licks his lips, looking hungry, and Christian mirrors the action, needing to taste him again. He grabs Sebastian’s shoulders, his body so slim, so young looking, that Christian can barely believe he can control those powerful machines with such ease. Sebastian sinks back down on top of him, keeping his eyes open as he brushes his lips against Christian’s, something like a question there. Christian answers by sliding his hands down Sebastian’s back and grabbing two handfuls of his arse, thrusting up against him. Sebastian’s eyes go even darker, his mouth hanging open as he takes in audible breaths, and Christian’s self-control goes the same way as his inhibitions as he smashes his mouth against Sebastian’s.

Their tongues slide together, messy and uncoordinated, bodies falling into an instinctive rhythm as they hump against each other, and there’s that unreal feeling again, like Christian is floating and dreaming, everything fuzzy around the edges. It makes him groan into Sebastian’s mouth, makes him grope helplessly at him to bring him closer, to ground himself in that moment. Once his hands start grabbing handfuls of Sebastian he soon loses himself to it though, tugging at jeans that he can’t work out how to get off. Sebastian has to unfasten the button for him, not even bothering to open his eyes as he hovers above Christian’s body.

They somehow get naked and then everything seems to slow down and speed up at the same time. Christian tries to take everything in but he can’t quite seem to make his hands do what he wants them to. He makes a fist around Sebastian’s cock, gives a few clumsy strokes, and then Sebastian makes a noise and shoves him away, grabbing both of their cocks together instead. Christian thinks that probably means he’d been doing a shit job. He also thinks that Sebastian’s idea is far better than his own.

He thrusts upwards into Sebastian’s grip, closing his eyes and arching his back, his hands free to roam over Sebastian’s back, grab his arse, take a handful of his hair and force him into another kiss. He feels like he’s totally in control, free to do what he wants, and yet he’s aware that he’s completely at the mercy of Sebastian’s hand, his pace, his desire.

Everything feels fuzzy to Christian, out of focus, and he’s too hot, sweat dripping down his temples, sticking the sheets to his back. Sebastian’s mouth is on his neck again, teeth grazing his flesh as he muffles himself, and it feels like a bit of a letdown when Seb comes against him, the hot slickness falling over Christian’s cock and abdomen. Does that mean they have to stop now? Sebastian’s hand falters for a few moments before stilling completely and Christian tries not to be greedy, tries to simply breathe and work out how long it’s polite to let Sebastian stay there before he shoves him out of the way and takes care of himself.

Sebastian doesn’t let him get to that point though. He lifts his head up, letting his cock slip from his own grip as he wraps his fingers determinately around Christian, giving a squeeze, and Christian’s amazed that the look on Sebastian’s face doesn’t make him come on the spot. He looks totally wrecked, face flushed, hair damp with sweat, pupils blown wide, but he still manages to smirk at Christian, looking like he’s the cleverest bastard in the world.

Christian’s cock is slick with Sebastian’s come now and Sebastian uses that to his advantage. His hand glides over Christian’s length before his fingers focus on the head, smearing the come over his slit, making him buck up and grunt, unable to look away from that filthy expression on Sebastian’s face. Sebastian uses his other hand to stroke up and down the length of Christian’s cock while his fingers continue massaging the head and Christian arches helplessly upwards, his orgasm ripping almost violently through him. He makes a vaguely disgruntled noise at how sensitive Sebastian’s ministrations make him feel, his whole body shaking as he lets out a shuddery breath, eyes squeezing shut as it racks his body.

When he opens his eyes again, Sebastian’s face has changed and Christian can’t quite read it anymore; he doesn’t have the energy. He gives Sebastian a little shove, Sebastian thankfully not arguing as he rolls off him, letting him get some much needed cool air to his body as he gulps in oxygen, his senses failing to come back to him before he tumbles headlong into sleep.

He wakes somewhere in the middle of the night, an unpleasant taste in his mouth and a headache beginning dully inside his skull. He sits up, immediately regretting it as a wave of nausea hits him. He grabs at his head, groaning quietly. There’s dried come over his stomach and his cock feels used and tender. He glances over his shoulder, Sebastian sleeping soundly, tucked up under the covers. The guilt threatens to swallow Christian up.

He tries to rationalise it; Sebastian had definitely taken the lead and Christian was probably the more drunk of the two, but it doesn’t really make him feel much better. It’s only a couple of weeks ago that Sebastian admitted he and Hanna aren’t together anymore and Christian can’t shake the thought that he’s somehow taken advantage. This isn’t a situation he should have let himself get into. Gathering his clothes from the floor he pulls them on as quietly as he can, beginning the walk of shame.

He doesn’t see Sebastian again until the media event at the factory back in Milton Keynes two days later. He feels himself flush when Sebastian approaches him, that easy little smile on his lips that always makes him look so cheeky. Inappropriate thoughts fly into Christian’s head. He knows what he looks like naked, knows what his cock feels like against his own, knows what he looks like when he comes.

“Good party on Sunday,” Sebastian says as he steps up beside him.

“Yes,” Christian agrees, the word strained, so loaded that it threatens to crush him.

“I drunk so much I can barely remember a thing,” Sebastian goes on and then he winks at Christian, still so easy and unflustered, and Christian knows that he’s being let off the hook.

“Me neither,” Christian agrees.

Sebastian’s smile widens, slapping Christian on the shoulder before walking away, and Christian considers that to be the end of that.

Christmas is quiet and Christian is grateful because, after such a hectic and unpredictable season, he’s feeling lazy and it’s nice to be able to give in to it. He has plenty of lie ins, indulging himself, and he wonders if he’s making it worse because, the more he sleeps, the more he wants to sleep.

In January, just as it’s time to return to work, he picks up some kind of bug and spends his mornings throwing up before he finally manages to drag himself into the factory, feeling rough and bleary eyed. He thinks it can’t be that bad because once he gets focussed on work the nausea seems to fade and he can get on with what he needs to be doing. The fact that it lasts for weeks should probably ring alarm bells but other than feeling tired from all the vomiting he can’t complain about anything else so he puts it firmly to the back of his mind and focuses on the million other things that need his attention.

Thankfully, by the time they start testing in February, he seems to finally shift the bug once and for all and he gets his appetite back. In fact, he can’t stop eating. He doesn’t really blame his body, the regular mornings of throwing up had left him feeling constantly drained so he thinks it’s perfectly natural that he has the urge to stock up now that he can finally keep his breakfast down.

He doesn’t realise quite how much extra he’s eating until he’s getting dressed in Australia and finds that his team uniform doesn’t quite fit him. He checks the size in the label, the same size he wore last year, and wonders if they’ve changed the sizing guide. He makes an enquiry and is met with a confused frown so he’s forced to admit that he needs a bigger size. He’s certain that something’s changed because it makes his stomach itch, a constant irritation that just adds to the stress of the weekend. After the uniform goes through a few washes over the next few race weekends the itchiness seems to go away and Christian forgets all about it.

His energy levels never quite get back to where they were before the virus but if he eats enough and sleeps as much as the job allows he manages to keep it more or less under control. The thing that worries him more is the back pain that he never used to suffer from and the emotions that seem to run away with him, leading to more than a few embarrassing outbursts that definitely threaten his authority and leave him feeling embarrassed and a little bit fragile. And the liquorice. He can’t stop eating liquorice, leaving bags of it in handy places so that he can nibble on it whenever he gets the urge. It’s a strange compulsion, liquorice is not something he was ever interested in before, but there’s too many other things going on for him to spend too much time worrying about it.

When the summer break comes he’s so grateful that he actually cries when he gets back home. For the two weeks that the factory is shut down he does little else but sleep and when it’s time to go back to work he’s not sure he can even face it. He’s more out of shape than ever and he wonders how he ever managed to run a half-marathon. Right now he can barely make it up a flight of stairs without needing a sit down.

In Spa, he finds he has to ask for the next size up in his uniform again and it’s so humiliating that he vows he’s going to start working out. With a newfound determination that goes against everything his body is telling him he puts on some workout clothes and decides to run the track. He sets off on a steady jog, telling himself that if he takes it leisurely he’ll be fine, but by the time he gets to Eau Rouge he’s breathless and his stomach is cramping badly.

He throws in the towel, trying to ignore the pain in his abdomen, but something doesn’t feel right and he heads to the medical bay. After a quick exam he’s told that his symptoms sound like stress and maybe he should take an early night. He’s given some indigestion medicine to calm his stomach and told to come back tomorrow if things haven’t improved.

He doesn’t sleep much that night, his insides feeling like they’re wound up tightly. He lays on his back, rubbing a hand over his stomach that feels swollen and hard, tensed up like he’s about to vomit, but his nausea feels like a side effect rather than the real problem here. The next morning, he’s still getting cramps but he tells himself that if he just distracts himself with his work he can make it fade away just like all that sickness he suffered with back in February. It doesn’t really work, the pain only subsiding for periods of time before coming back even worse.

He’s in the motorhome, bracing himself on a table as another wave of pain hits him, when Adrian and Mark come over, concern written over their faces.

“You said you felt better,” Adrian says critically.

“I do,” Christian grits out, the pain thankfully starting to subside. Adrian gives him an unimpressed look, clearly sensing bullshit. “Occasionally. It comes and goes.”

“Mate, you look awful,” Mark tells him.

“Thanks,” Christian responds, easing himself down into a seat.

“Go back to bed,” Adrian tells him. “Get better for quali tomorrow. We’ll have plenty of data for you to go over.”

“I’m fine,” Christian insists with a wave of his hand.

“The doc said that last night?” Mark asks.

“He said it was probably stress related,” Christian replies. “This team is going to be the death of me.”

He feels another series of pains starting up and he wants to cry. Not again, not already. He pushes himself up onto his feet, bending over something seeming to ease the sensation a little. He lets out a little groan and instantly regrets it.

“You’re not working today,” Adrian decides.

“It’s just, it’s really hot in here, that’s all,” Christian argues.

“It’s really not,” Mark responds, lifting a hand to press against Christian’s forehead. “Mate, you’re dripping with sweat. You need a doctor.”

“I’m fine,” Christian insists, shaking his head. He closes his eyes as the pain peaks, biting down on his lip, his hands curling into fists. He waits it out, knowing that when it eases off he’ll finally be able to breathe again. When he lifts his head, Adrian has that look on his face like he’s about to start kicking some ass.

“Doctor. Now.”

Christian can’t help but let himself be herded along.

“Any tenderness?” the doctor asks, pressing down on his abdomen. Christian shakes his head. The doctor looks over his notes. “There’s a few things it could be but I’d really like to do an ultrasound to start ruling things out.” He reaches for a machine on a trolley, pulling it closer. He adjusts a few dials and then picks up a bottle, uncapping the lid. “This might be a little cold, just try and relax.”

Christian stares up at the ceiling. The pain is starting again and the last thing he can think about is relaxing. He grits his teeth, the cold gel being spread over his stomach barely registering. He grunts a couple of times as the pain gets worse, wanting to curl up into a ball, wanting to pace, the stillness feeling like it’s going to suffocate him.

“When you were a child,” the doctor begins haltingly, and when Christian looks up he sees a concerned and puzzled look on his face as he stares at the screen in front of him, angled away from Christian. “Do you have any history of... gender ambiguity?”

Christian goes hot, the familiar shame pressing down on him. “What?”

The doctor spins the ultrasound screen towards Christian, watching closely for a reaction. Christian doesn’t even know what he’s looking at, some kind of shifting mass.

“What’s that?”

“That’s a baby,” the doctor replies calmly.

Christian looks up at him. “Where’s my ultrasound?”

“That is your ultrasound, Mr. Horner.”

Christian looks at it again. He shakes his head. “No. No, I was told that... That’s not possible. No. No no no.”

The doctor turns the screen back towards himself, moving the instrument over Christian’s stomach to look at it from a different angle. The pain is starting up again but Christian can barely feel it through the shock, the convulsions in his abdomen second to the churning of his brain. He feels like he might pass out.

“Everything looks perfectly healthy,” the doctor assures him. “And it’s really quite a safe procedure, there’s nothing for you to worry about.”

Christian just stares at him. There’s no end of things to worry about.

“I’ll call ahead to the hospital so they’ll have everything ready for you,” the doctor goes on. “Is there anyone you’d like me to notify? A... partner? A family member?”

“No,” Christian says, the desperation clear in his voice. “No, don’t tell anyone. Please.”

The doctor nods his understanding and as another cramp, _contraction_ , rips through him, Christian cries out in pain, embracing it.

*

It was when puberty set in that it became obvious something wasn’t quite right with his body. At 12, you’re insecure about your own body enough to start with, but after having to endure a series of examinations and scans, Christian was sure he hated his traitorous body more than any of the other kids, and that was before he got the results from the tests.

He was told that he was a perfectly normal boy on the outside, but inside things were a little more complicated. He had the inner workings of a female reproductive system; a uterus, tubes, ovaries. Christian stared down at the crotch of his jeans while his mother asked questions that made little sense to him.

They could remove the female parts, he was told, but it would be a complicated and possibly risky procedure, the various tubes interlinked in a way that would make it difficult to separate without possibly damaging the functionality of his male reproductive system too. Christian winced at the thought. Besides, he was told, it wouldn’t make much difference to him. The female part was dormant, not functional, just a little mistake his body created, a quirk of his development.

Physically it might not have meant much but psychologically it messed his head up at just about the worst possible time in his sexual development. He knew that he was a boy, the doctors had said as much, but there was a doubt in his head now. Maybe he wasn’t really one thing or the other, maybe he was something else. Things got complicated further a couple of years later when he started to find himself attracted to boys. Was he gay or was he just a straight woman who happened to be trapped in a man’s external body?

For most of his teens he ignored sexuality completely, putting all of his energy into racing. His passion for the sport meant that most of his friends didn’t raise an eyebrow over the fact that he showed no interest in dating and was clearly still a virgin. He had legitimate priorities that explained why he wasn’t doing what every other boy his age was doing.

He was in his twenties when he finally accepted that he was a man who liked other men and it didn’t have to be any more complicated than that. His cock was average sized, his hips straight, his chest hairy. He belatedly began to explore his sexuality, only with the lights out the first few times because he was scared that if anyone looked too closely they’d be able to tell that he was different. He never dated though, never got close to anyone emotionally, because he thought there must be other tells in how he acted, in who he was, that would let them see the truth hidden below the surface.

The real turning point in the way he saw himself was when he decided to take his clothes off for a magazine shoot. It doubtless looked cheap, laughable even, but it was so empowering to put himself there in front of everyone and finally own his body. After that day he shed his insecurities, locking them all away in a box and telling himself he was never going to open it again.

*

Christian opens his eyes, the lights too bright, and he closes them again, feeling dizzy and disorientated. He take a few breaths, everything feeling slightly numb, and then tries again, squinting against too many white surfaces. The baby in a small clear cot is the first thing he sees and he realises with a rising panic that it wasn’t just a dream. The baby is awake, blue eyes blinking at nothing in particular, sucking on its tiny fist, and Christian wants to flee, a wave of nausea making him wretch, but his legs aren’t working, don’t respond to his brain’s messages to move.

“Mr Horner,” a cheery nurse greets as she comes into the private room he’s thankfully been given. “You are awake. How do you feel?”

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Christian responds, his voice croaky and raw. He clears his throat self-consciously.

The nurse smiles, wheeling the cot closer to the bed, and Christian can feel himself tensing up. “Everything went very well, no complications, and your son is completely healthy.”

Christian blinks at the baby, now beside the bed, close enough that he could touch it if he wanted to. “Son?”

“Yes,” the nurse agrees. “You have a son.” She reaches confidently into the cot, picking up the baby who squirms as he’s lifted, making Christian wince. “Would you like to hold him?” she asks, already offering him forwards as though it’s a foregone conclusion that Christian will simply love his newborn child.

“No,” he says, the panic in his voice making her pause, her professional composure faltering slightly. “No,” Christian says again, trying to sound reasonable about it. “Please.”

“Okay,” she agrees, the word sounding slightly put out. She places the baby back in the cot, adjusting his blankets. “It must be surprise,” she allows.

“Can you take him away?” Christian responds. The nurse gives him a questioning look like she’s sure she’s misheard. “Don’t you have a nursery or something? Where you can take him?”

“I can,” she agrees, but she doesn’t look like she’s going to.

“I just, I need some space,” Christian says. “I can’t...” He shakes his head. “I just can’t right now.”

The nurse nods, looking regretful, but Christian’s sure it can’t be the first time she’s dealt with something like this. She wheels the baby away, the door closing behind her, and Christian feels exhausted, his mind in tatters and his body pulled apart. He closes his eyes, still hurting from the brightness of the overhead lights, and before he realises what’s happened he’s fallen into a deep sleep.

He wakes again to see Sebastian in the room, looking over the baby that has somehow returned. Christian thinks for a moment that he might still be dreaming, or maybe hallucinating, but as the haziness of sleep leaves him he finds that the vision in front of him doesn’t change.

“I told them to take him away,” he says.

Sebastian startles slightly, smiling when he looks up at Christian and sees him awake. “Hey,” he says, looking back down at the baby. “I asked them to bring him back.” Christian doesn’t say anything, playing with the edge of the blanket. Sebastian shifts awkwardly on his feet. “Listen, I’m not going to assume I know anything about your sex life,” he begins. “But he has my eyes.”

Christian lets his head fall to the side, looking over the baby. “He’s like a tiny little version of you.”

Sebastian smiles so widely his face almost splits open. He looks so in love as he gazes at the baby. “Yeah.”

Christian shifts in the bed, his body more responsive now, and he turns onto his side away from Sebastian, ignoring the raw line of pain across his lower abdomen.

“How is this even possible?” Sebastian asks, his tone full of wonder.

Christian squeezes his eyes shut, the shame and humiliation fresh like he’s twelve years old again. “I have... a birth defect,” he says, the simplest explanation he can come up with that won’t reveal too much about what he is.

“He has a birth defect?” Sebastian asks, worry clear in his voice.

“Not him, me,” Christian responds irritably.

“Oh,” Sebastian says quietly. “Are you okay?” he asks, almost as an afterthought. Christian’s not quite sure how to answer that question so he doesn’t bother. “Did you really not know?” Sebastian asks.

“If I knew I would have gotten rid of it,” Christian insists.

There’s a pause and Christian can feel the tension even with his back turned. “What do you mean?” Sebastian asks.

“What do you think I mean?” Christian responds. “It would have been a lot simpler before he was born. Now there’s... so much, I don’t even know. I need to get a lawyer, work out what the first steps are.”

“You want to give him away?” Sebastian asks. He walks around the bed so that he can look Christian in the eye. “Were you planning on including me in that decision at all?”

Christian gives him a weary look. “What are you going to do with a baby, Seb? It’s better for everyone.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “You don’t get to just decide that. It’s my baby too.”

“Sebastian...” Christian begins, but he’s cut off.

“Don’t _Sebastian_ me,” Sebastian explodes. “If I’m old enough to make a life I’m old enough to take care of it. I don’t run away from my responsibilities.”

The baby begins to wail and Sebastian looks up, worry and guilt on his face. Christian sighs, closing his eyes.

“Great. Well done.”

“It’s okay, I can...” Sebastian says uncertainly, making his way back over to the baby. “Hey,” he says gently and Christian’s sure the baby won’t hear over his own screams. “It’s okay, it’s alright.”

“Just get the nurse to take it away again,” Christian tells him.

“ _Him_ ,” Sebastian says irritably. “He’s a _him_ , not an _it_.”

Christian covers his ears with his hands. “Just get that noise out of here.”

He doesn’t hear a response from Sebastian but the baby’s cries fade away. He drops his hands in the now quiet room, hugging himself as a tear falls down his cheek. He doesn’t have the energy to wipe it away. Well, if the baby gets to cry so freely, he guesses he should be allowed to as well.

That evening Adrian comes to see him, bringing him a bunch of grapes and completely failing to ask about the baby once. Christian isn’t sure if he’s trying to be sensitive to Christian’s breakdown or if he’s in as much denial as Christian is. He doesn’t ask how Sebastian knew about the baby and he doesn’t ask if he’d reported back with just how much Christian had lost it earlier. He doesn’t want to know. It’s nice to just talk about work, about the track, the practice sessions, the cars, all the things that need doing before tomorrow.

“Did you bring the data for me then?” Christian asks. “You promised you’d have plenty.”

Adrian looks at him carefully for a moment. “I think you have other things on your mind right now,” he finally says.

“I’m hoping they’ll let me out tomorrow morning,” Christian says. “I want to be up to speed on everything before quali.”

“You just had a major operation, Christian,” Adrian says. “They said it’ll be three days, at least. No race weekend for you. You need to rest.”

“Three days?” Christian asks, feeling his heart sink. He hadn’t really bothered to ask many questions about his condition, scared it would lead to them asking him when he was planning on taking care of his baby.

“Don’t worry about it,” Adrian assures him. “Everything’s under control. You just concentrate on getting better.”

He does manage to convince Adrian to bring his laptop in for him on his way to the track the next morning. He gets straight online, looking up the timings for the Friday practice sessions, trying to get a sense of how they measure up. He realises the information’s pretty meaningless to him without knowing anything about the setup of his cars or the fuel loads they were carrying.

He looks up articles about the weekend instead, finding quite a few stories reporting his sudden trip to hospital. There’s no mention of a baby yet, but Christian knows it’s only a matter of time before the news leaks. He needs to work out how he’s going to get rid of the thing.

The door swings open and Sebastian storms into the room looking incredibly unhappy. Christian watches him warily, bracing himself.

“I went to see the baby,” Sebastian begins. “Thought I’d say good morning before I went to the track.” Christian nods. “I asked if I could hold him but they said only the parents are allowed to hold the baby. I told them I was the father and they said my name’s not on the birth certificate.”

“No,” Christian agrees.

Sebastian glares at him. “You said he was mine.”

“I said he looked like you,” Christian corrects.

“Christian, stop with the bullshit, what the fuck are you trying to do?” Sebastian demands.

Christian sighs. “You don’t need this, Seb. I’m doing you a favour. You’re not like any other twenty-six year old in the world. You can’t live the life you lead and look after a baby, it’s impossible.”

Sebastian sags, dropping down in the chair by Christian’s bedside. “You could let me try.”

“I’m giving him away,” Christian insists.

“Then I’m getting a lawyer too,” Sebastian says calmly, no fire now, just straightforward determination. “An expensive one. I’ll fight you for him.”

Christian closes the laptop. He feels like crying. “You’re making a mistake.”

Sebastian shrugs. “That’s what kids do, isn’t it?”

Christian gives him a look. “I never called you a kid.”

“It was implied,” Sebastian responds. He steals a grape. “Also, _baby boy_?”

Christian frowns. “What?”

“The birth certificate,” Sebastian explains. “ _Baby boy Horner_.” He shakes his head. “You have to give him a _name_ , Christian.”

“I’m not naming him,” Christian says. “I’m not getting attached. Whoever gets him can name him.”

Sebastian looks at his watch. “I have to get to the track.” He looks up at Christian. “Put my name on the birth certificate. Don’t make me go through all the DNA testing to prove it.”

Christian shakes his head. The longer he drags his feet on Sebastian getting rights to the baby then the easier it will be to get rid of the thing before Sebastian has a legal leg to stand on.

Sebastian sighs, looking disappointed as he gets to him feet. “You going to wish me luck?” he asks.

“Of course I am,” Christian responds. “The team comes first.”

Sebastian stares at him for a moment, his face slightly dark, and then he turns around and heads for the door.

Christian watches qualifying on the small TV in his hospital room. It’s a strange sensation and he feels almost detached from it. He also feels completely powerless and far more nervous than when he’s sat on the pitwall and can talk to anyone he needs to over the radio, seeking out the answers that will calm him, setting right the things that are troubling him. Sat in his hospital bed he’s nothing more than a spectator, one of the millions around the world, and it’s incredibly unsettling.

Sebastian and Mark qualify 3rd and 4th respectively. It’s not a bad result but Christian’s aim is always for the front row and it never feels good to miss out. It wasn’t really theirs for the taking today though and he knows he should be happy with that.

Adrian rings him once it’s all over and the press is out of the way, Adrian picking up the slack for Christian and giving more than his share of interviews, along with Jonathan. Adrian seems pleased with the result, talks Christian through the setup and the options they have for tomorrow, the chances they have at a podium. It makes Christian feel normal.

They bring the baby into his room that afternoon, insisting it will be good for him to try and bond. He doesn’t agree but there’s not much he can do when they leave the little plastic cot there, the baby dozing inside. Christian ignores it and turns the laptop on, soaking up all the information he can about qualifying. He gets easily lost in it, only looking up when the door opens.

“I brought you some chocolates,” Mark announces, holding up the box before tossing it down on the cabinet by the bed. “Belgian. Very apt.” He walks over to the cot. “This the little monster then?”

“Yeah,” Christian agrees, thinking how fitting that word is. He closes the laptop, setting it aside.

“Hey little matey,” Mark says, looking the baby over. He reaches in, sliding his hands under the baby to scoop it up.

“Don’t,” Christian calls out when he realises what he’s doing, but it’s too late, Mark has the baby cradled against him.

“Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing,” Mark insists, turning around to face Christian. “My sister’s got kids, I’m great with babies, they love me.” He grins down at the baby in his arms. “Yeah, that’s right,” he coos.

“Congratulations,” Christian says dryly. “You’re officially the first person to hold him.”

Mark frowns, looking at him. “You haven’t held him?”

“I don’t want to hold him,” Christian dismisses.

“Mate, babies need to be held,” Mark tells him. “That’s how they bond, how they form attachments. You’re fucking the little guy up.”

“I don’t want to form an attachment with him,” Christian says. “He can form an attachment with whatever lovely people decide to adopt him. That’s got nothing to do with me.”

“Don’t damage him just because you don’t want to keep him,” Mark says.

“Don’t give me a fucking guilt trip,” Christian responds. “Trust me, I feel awful enough already.”

Mark sighs, his face softening. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just... you have to hold him.”

He starts towards the bed and Christian tenses, crosses his arms firmly over his chest. “No.”

“Yes,” Mark says. “Stop being pathetic, it’s just a baby.”

He leans down, clearly intent, and Christian instinctively opens his arms to accept the baby into them. He’s warm and slightly wriggly and Christian’s really not sure he’s doing this right at all. He tries to adjust him but he’s scared of moving too much, jostling him, doing some damage.

“See,” Mark says triumphantly, picking up the box of chocolates he brought and opening them up. “Easy.” He shoves one in his mouth, sitting down in the chair by the bed.

Christian stares down at the baby who stares up at him, and he wonders what the little thing is thinking. It’s probably not thinking anything, he tells himself, its brain probably isn’t even fully developed yet. Still, it looks curious, like he’s wondering who Christian is, wondering what he has to offer him. Not much, Christian wants to tell him. Not much at all.

“How long do I have to do this for?” he asks.

“Did you watch quali?” Mark asks, clearly intent on ignoring his protests.

“Yes,” Christian agrees, shifting uncomfortably as he watches the baby carefully. “You did well. Adrian tells me it should be a good race tomorrow, we’ve got a shot at that top step.”

Mark shoves another chocolate in his mouth. “Yeah, it’s looking good,” he agrees around his mouthful.

They talk about their race prospects, the happenings in the paddock, and Christian kind of gets used to the weight in his arms. The baby drifts back off to sleep and Christian stops feeling quite so self-conscious, letting his arms relax and accepting that the baby won’t roll out of them. This is safe. He doesn’t exactly enjoy it, but he can see why someone might.

Mark has eaten half his chocolates by the time the baby wakes up again, beginning to cry in Christian’s arms. It’s quiet at first, a sad little mewl, but it makes Christian tense up instantly.

“What does it want?” he asks helplessly.

“Might want a nappy change,” Mark shrugs. He leans over, giving a sniff, and Christian wrinkles his nose up. “Or probably hungry. When was his last feed?”

“How would I know?” Christian responds. “The nurses take care of that.”

Mark gives him a look. “Alright, I’ll find out, sit tight.”

He leaves the room and Christian instantly feels out of his depth. The baby is crying louder now, wailing at him with screwed up eyes, his face red. He looks almost pained and Christian worries there might be something wrong.

“It’s okay,” he tries, but he doesn’t sound very convincing. “Don’t cry,” he pleads. “Just stop. What do you possibly have to be sad about?”

The door opens and he shuts his mouth, embarrassed to be seen talking to something so unresponsive. The nurse smiles at him proudly, carrying a bottle of formula.

“He suits you,” she says.

“Can you just take him?” Christian responds.

“You can do it, it’s easy,” she assures him. “Just like this.”

She tips the bottle up, placing the teat in the baby’s mouth, and he instantly quiets, sucking instinctively. Christian takes the bottle from her before he realises what he’s doing, watching the baby’s mouth as it suckles the bottle. When he looks up again, the nurse has left the room and Mark is eating another of his chocolates.

“Didn’t you bring those for me?” Christian asks.

Mark shrugs and then picks one out, shoving it into Christian’s mouth. “Here,” he says. “You need to keep your strength up. Something tells me Sebastian Vettel’s spawn is going to be hard work.”

Christian gives him a look. He blushes slightly, wondering if people know the details. Has Sebastian really been talking about this? He knows Mark and Sebastian get on better now but he can’t imagine Sebastian spilling his heart to Mark so easily. Maybe everyone knows. Gossip does spread fast at Red Bull.

Mark stares down at the baby. “This is going to make Seb’s contract negotiations pretty interesting, isn’t it?”

Christian sighs, telling himself it won’t make a difference, but how professional can you be with someone you’re currently in a custody battle with? He watches the baby, blue eyes sliding contentedly shut, and he feels so completely out of his depth.

Adrian comes to visit him on Sunday morning before the race. Christian wasn’t expecting to see him but he’s glad for the company. He’s going stir crazy and praying they let him out tomorrow like the doctor suggested would be possible. Adrian holds up an envelope, looking apprehensive.

“Don’t shoot the messenger,” he says.

Christian frowns. “What?”

“Marko asked me to give you this,” Adrian explains, passing it over.

Christian’s heart sinks. He’s been dreading recrimination from the team and he’s certain this can only be bad news. He opens the envelope up, finding a card inside. It’s blue, the words ‘It’s a boy!’ across the top, typical new baby images below. Christian feels himself practically sneering at it. Inside he finds a handwritten message:

_Congratulations on your new arrival. Enjoy your maternity leave and we’ll speak in January about your options to return.  
Helmut_

Christian looks up at Adrian. “Maternity leave? January? He can’t do that.”

Adrian shrugs helplessly. “I’m just the guy delivering the card.”

Christian shakes his head. “I’m talking to Dietrich. He can’t just throw me off the team.”

“Let it go,” Adrian says calmly.

Christian shoots him a glare. “Let it go? Let him walk all over me?”

“Take the time off, sort out the things that need sorting out, and then you can go back to him and explain that you’re ready to come back to work,” Adrian says. “If you get emotional with him he’s going to drag you through the mud and you won’t be coming back at all. Don’t rise to him.”

Christian nods, taking a couple of breaths. “You’re right.” He closes the card, throws it on the bedside cabinet.

“Do you know how long it might be before...” Adrian trails off, the end of the question obvious.

“My brother put me in touch with a lawyer,” Christian tells him. “That was a fun conversation. He’s sorting out the paperwork so that I can go back to England with the baby. After that... it depends how hard Seb fights me on the adoption.”

Adrian nods, looking thoughtful. “Just make sure you get all the help that you need.”

“He’s a good lawyer,” Christian assures him.

“That’s not what I meant,” Adrian responds, giving him a meaningful look.

After Adrian leaves Christian knows how busy everyone in the team will be, all the jobs that need doing before the race, and it’s frustrating that he’s left completely in the dark until the pre-race build-up starts on TV, barely scratching the surface of what’s really going on at the track. He’s watching the gridwalk, trying to get a glimpse of his cars, his drivers, when a nurse brings the baby in, screaming at the top of its lungs.

“He’s hungry,” the nurse announces. “Do you want to feed him again?”

“I’m working,” Christian dismisses.

The nurse looks at the screen. “You’re watching TV.”

“I really need to see this,” Christian insists. “It’s important.”

“I thought you might want to get a bit of practice,” the nurse suggests. “If you want to take him home with you tomorrow.”

Christian looks at her, swallowing uncomfortably. He’s been trying not to think about the fact that he’s going to have to actually take this thing home and look after it until the adoption details can be finalised. He looks at the baby, screaming and wriggling.

“Okay,” he agrees.

The nurse offers him a smile, scooping the baby carefully up and bringing him over to Christian before handing him the bottle. Christian sticks it in the baby’s mouth who accepts it eagerly.

“We can teach you how to make the formula up before you leave,” the nurse offers. “And how to change his nappy.”

Christian wrinkles his nose slightly but he knows it’s a necessary evil if he wants to tick all the boxes and get this baby out of his life for good. He looks up at the nurse.

“Thank you.”

She gives him a nod and leaves him alone with the baby. He drinks down his bottle and then starts to fuss slightly and Christian worries he’s going to need that nappy changing lesson already. Luckily, when the race begins, the noise of the cars going around seems to calm him and he drops off to sleep, sucking on his tiny fist. Christian has to spare a smile for him. Of course Sebastian’s baby is soothed by the sound of race cars.

Christian holds the baby while he watches the race, constantly on edge and second-guessing what the team should be doing next. He doesn’t have all the information, he knows that, can’t possibly make an informed decision, but it doesn’t stop him trying to solve the problems before they arise. The baby gets heavy in his arms and he’s too tense to keep still so he walks across the room, placing the baby gently down in the cot and hoping he stays asleep. As he pulls his arms away the baby stirs slightly and Christian holds his breath, letting it out as a relieved sigh a few moments later when the baby settles easily back to sleep.

Once the race is over, Christian turns on his laptop, seeking out as much information as he can. He expects his phone to ring but it never does. Not a single person gets in touch. Christian wonders if they’ve been warned not to, if he’s been blacklisted by his own team. He doesn’t hear a word from anyone until Sebastian walks through the door a couple of hours later.

“I won,” he states in the tone of voice usually reserved for statements like _fuck you_.

“I saw,” Christian agrees, frowning slightly. “Congratulations. Why are you saying it like that fact should piss me off?”

“Because he’s not a distraction,” Sebastian states, walking over to the baby who is awake now, chewing on his fist again, a habit that Christian finds more annoying that endearing. “He gives me purpose. I want to make him proud.”

“Don’t start this,” Christian pleads. “It’s a really bad idea.”

Sebastian turns to face him. “Mark told me that he held him,” he states. “That means I’m allowed to hold him too.”

“Knock yourself out,” Christian tells him wearily, laying back on the bed. He feels far too tired for this.

Sebastian turns back to the baby, reaching out, and then stops, shifting positions a couple of times before giving an irritated sigh. He turns back to Christian. “How do you do this? I don’t want to hurt him.”

“Don’t ask me,” Christian shrugs. “People just keep handing him to me. I wish they’d stop it.”

Sebastian gives him a look and then turns back to the baby. “You have to support the head right?” He leans forward again. “Do you think I can break him?” Christian rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything. “Okay,” Sebastian says, determination in his voice. He reaches down again, sliding his hands under the baby and lifting it awkwardly up, cradling it quickly to his body. The baby makes a disgruntled sound but as Sebastian starts to rock him he quiets again. “Wow,” Sebastian says, voice full of wonder.

Christian looks over, the expression on Sebastian’s face making tears prick at his eyes. It’s just the hormones he tells himself, but Sebastian has never looked this happy on any podium, has never looked this overwhelmed by any of his world championships. Christian wants to tell himself that Sebastian’s an idiot, but that look on his face is kind of beautiful and Christian finds himself just staring for a moment.

“He’s totally amazing,” Sebastian says. “I mean, not that I didn’t already think that, but holding him...” He looks up at Christian. “Don’t you think?”

Christian shrugs, forcing himself to look away. “You shouldn’t be holding him. You’re getting attached.”

“How can you not want him?” Sebastian asks, so much innocence in the question.

Christian squeezes his eyes shut. He could handle it better if he was being accused of something, but being asked in such a straightforward way makes his desire to get rid of the baby seem even more unnatural. Sebastian’s simple inability to understand hurts.

“I’m going for a walk,” Christian announces. “I’m supposed to stay mobile, it’s good for my stitches.”

“Do you want me to come with you?” Sebastian asks.

Christian gets to his feet, looking down at the baby in Sebastian’s arms. He shakes his head. “You stay here. With...” He can’t finish that sentence, can’t meet Sebastian’s eyes, so he walks out of the room.

Strolling the corridors he tries to make his mind as blank as the bland decor around him. He takes it slowly but still feels the pinches and pulls across his abdomen telling him that healing will take a while. He feels tender, feels like he’s been torn open and pulled apart, and while he knows it’s the reality it’s the emotional aspects of it that get to him more. The stitches will come out before he leaves the hospital and while the healing will take a little longer he knows that this isn’t forever. Still, he feels fragile, as though he might tear open, as though he needs to be wrapped up in bandages to keep him safe and stop himself falling apart.

When he gets back to the room he’s not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that Sebastian is still there. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, the cot pulled up beside him. The baby is sleeping again and Sebastian is gazing down at it, gently stroking its face with the backs of his fingers. He looks at Christian as he comes in, offering him a soft smile.

“Okay?”

“Fine,” Christian says, a little too defensive.

Sebastian nods, looking back down at the baby. “They wouldn’t let me change his nappy.”

“You’re lucky,” Christian tells him. “They made me do it.”

Sebastian smiles at him. “Yeah?” Christian comes to sit at the other side of the bed. “Do you want to lie down?” Sebastian asks, making a move to get up.

Christian shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

Sebastian turns back to the baby. “Maybe I should have brought my trophy to show him.”

“He doesn’t know what a trophy is,” Christian dismisses.

Sebastian shrugs. “Heikki’s taking it back home for me. He’s getting a flight tonight.”

“You’re not?” Christian asks.

Sebastian looks up at him. “I’ll go home with you. Tomorrow.”

Christian gives him a stern look. “No.”

“You want to travel on your own with a baby?” Sebastian asks.

Christian frowns, looking at the way Sebastian tenderly touches the baby, even when his attention is on Christian. He sighs. “Don’t get involved,” he pleads.

“I am involved,” Sebastian points out. “And I’m doing you a favour. Shut up about it.”

Christian shakes his head and tries to look unimpressed but his lips curl up into the tiniest smile. “I’m tired,” he says. “I want to get some rest.”

Sebastian nods. “Okay.” He stands up, looking over the baby. He just gazes for a moment before leaning down and whispering something in German, placing a kiss on the baby’s forehead. He pulls on his jacket, looking at Christian. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It’s not a question so Christian doesn’t bother to answer.

The next morning he manages to change a nappy on his own and he figures he can probably put up with this for a couple of weeks, or at the very least get through it. Sebastian arrives midmorning pushing an expensive looking pram with a detachable carseat. He’s smiling broadly, looking proud of his new purchase.

“Why are you spending so much money?” Christian asks. “That’s going to get used once.”

“You were going to carry the baby back to England?” Sebastian returns, walking over to the cot. “Hey,” he greets softly.

“Maybe I can give it to the new parents,” Christian ponders aloud.

He catches the glare Sebastian sends his way but chooses to ignore it, turning back to packing away his things. When he’s done he sits down on the bed, looking over at Sebastian who is still completely focussed on the baby.

“I had to give him a name,” Christian tells him almost absently. “For the paperwork, to get him out of the country, they needed a name.”

Sebastian looks up at him, excitement clear in his eyes. “What did you call him?”

Christian shrugs, embarrassed already. He’s sure his choice must say something about him, he’s just not sure what. “Matthew.”

“Matthew,” Sebastian repeats, trying it out. “I like it.”

“Normal, sensible, it’ll get him through life,” Christian says, fiddling with the strap of his bag, trying to straighten out an imaginary kink. Sebastian smiles at him, a small smile that looks almost touched, and Christian doesn’t understand it. He gets to his feet, picking his bag up. “Shall we get out of here then?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees.

He leans over to pick the baby up. It’s only his second time but Christian notes how much more confident he is already. He’d probably be a good dad. It’s a shame really. You can’t have everything though and Sebastian made his choice when he signed up to be a Red Bull junior all those years ago.

Once the baby is strapped into the pram, Sebastian turns to face Christian again. “I gave the nurses a big bunch of flowers from both of us,” he states. “To say thank you for everything.”

“That’s really thoughtful,” Christian says, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the gesture. “I didn’t even think...”

“It’s fine, you have baby brain,” Sebastian dismisses.

“I have what?” Christian asks, giving him an unimpressed look. Sebastian just grins at him before leading the way out of the door.

Getting a private jet back to England feels extravagant but it’s Sebastian’s money and Christian really doesn’t want to be seen out in public right now anyway, especially with the baby. Besides, he really doesn’t want to be one of those irritating people who take screaming babies onto aeroplanes. The baby is actually pretty good during the flight though and Christian allows himself to doze off and leave a doting Sebastian in charge. Some tiny part of him acknowledges that it’s cruel of him to let Sebastian get close but for an hour’s respite he’s willing to be that selfish a person.

Stepping through his front door with a baby feels weird. It doesn’t belong here. He carries the carseat into the living room, placing it down on the coffee table while Sebastian brings the rest of the bags in. When he’s done he hovers by the door, watching Christian watch the baby.

“How are you going to do this?” Sebastian asks. Christian looks up at him. The question terrifies him so much that he can’t even move, let alone form a response. Sebastian shoves his hands into his pockets. “I mean, you don’t have anything for a baby,” he elaborates.

“I’ll go online, order some stuff, they do next day delivery,” Christian replies.

“What about tonight?” Sebastian asks.

Christian looks down at the baby. “He’ll be fine in there, won’t he?”

“I’ll go shopping,” Sebastian tells him. “Get you a little nursery start-up kit.”

“I can handle it,” Christian dismisses.

“I’m going shopping to buy some things for my son,” Sebastian insists, a hard edge in his voice.

“Don’t waste your money, he won’t be here long,” Christian tells him.

Sebastian gives him a dark look, heading for the door. He returns a couple of hours later just as Christian is sitting down to give Matthew his feed. He watches as Sebastian brings in bags of supplies and boxes of flatpack furniture, feeling increasingly swamped.

“Have you got a toolkit?” Sebastian asks once he’s finally finished, Christian’s living room littered with things he’s certain he can’t possibly need. “I’ll get started on putting this together.”

“Go home,” Christian tells him.

Sebastian looks up at him. “What?”

“I appreciate the help, I really do, but I think it’s time you went,” Christian says.

Sebastian frowns like he’s thinking about something. He chews on his lip, looking down at the baby. “Can I hold him before I go?”

“I’m feeding him,” Christian dismisses.

“I could feed him,” Sebastian suggests. Christian gives him a weary look. “Can I at least fucking say bye?” Sebastian asks, clearly irritated.

“Probably best if you don’t,” Christian responds quietly, looking down at the baby. “And if you have anything else to say, I suggest you say it through your lawyer to mine.”

“We’re really going to do this?” Sebastian asks incredulously.

“Looks like it,” Christian replies.

He doesn’t look up as Sebastian storms out but he flinches as the door slams shut, cradling the baby a little bit closer to him.

The next day Christian meets with the lawyer in person for the first time and it’s the start of a process he can already tell is going to be hell. Still, it’s nice to finally sit down with someone who has some practical solutions to offer him, someone who seems to be on his side. Going to see the woman from social services is less fun. She’s a nice lady and sympathetic to what he’s going through, but it’s obvious she wants him to consider his decision very carefully before he does anything rash and it makes him feel like a despicable human being for not even flinching at the idea of giving his baby away.

It’s no surprise when Sebastian’s lawyer demands the DNA test and Christian is forced to submitting his baby to be swabbed with a cottonbud. He knows what the results will be and he doesn’t know what he’s trying to achieve by drawing this out. He hopes that they can get a good enough case together why adoption by a family is a better option than having the baby placed permanently with his father, but Christian thinks that maybe it’s just better for him. No part of this seems free from his selfishness. He knows that it’s better for Sebastian too in the long run though. Somewhere down the line, when he beats Schumacher’s run of seven world titles, maybe he’ll even thank Christian for this.

The furniture that Sebastian bought never gets built. Christian uses a changing mat on the floor instead of the changing table that’s flatpacked in one of the boxes leaning against his living room wall, puts the baby to sleep in the Moses basket instead of attempting to put together the complicated looking crib. Matthew is tiny anyway, Christian doesn’t understand why he’d need anywhere bigger to sleep.

The only downside is that Christian spends far too much time leaning down to the floor to pick the baby up or put him down and it’s hard on his scar. Everything feels sore and painful, especially the line across his lower abdomen, and sometimes he has to press his hand against it while he gets down to the floor to stop himself feeling like he’s going to split open. The health visitor who comes to check on the baby tells him he shouldn’t be doing this alone, not in his condition. Christian pretends that he has no other option, pretends that he’s coping. He doesn’t want to be seen as weak and he can’t stand the thought of anyone seeing him like this. When Matthew’s gone, Christian wants to move on straight away and he’s certain that won’t be possible if he lets anyone witness this.

His heart sinks when the lawyer explains to him that the baby can’t officially be given up for adoption until he’s six weeks old, even if a suitable family is found and all parties are in agreement. A foster family can be found in the meantime, a stepping stone to giving the baby up fully, but Christian doesn’t feel like that’s fair on Matthew, as tempting as it is to have someone just take him away.

His house constantly smells of formula and baby sick and dirty nappies and seems to be filled with screaming more often than not. Christian can’t remember the last time he slept for more than a couple of hours at once, let alone ate a proper meal, and he feels like tearing his hair out every time the baby so much as stirs. But he needs to be mature about this, needs to prove that what he’s doing is in Matthew’s best interests, and that means giving him a consistent home until the day when he can finally hand him over to someone who will look after him forever.

It’s less than two weeks before he wavers on his decision and wants to give the baby to the first person he sees and never look back. Matthew wakes up at 4am, has his feed, but then refuses to settle. He screams and screams in Christian’s arms until Christian is tempted to scream back at him, so helpless and frustrated. He tries everything, changing his already clean nappy, offering him more formula, cooling him down, warming him up, winding him, rocking him, but nothing works. Eventually Christian just puts him down in his Moses basket and leaves the room.

He knows it’s the wrong thing to do and he’s definitely not proud of it, but the baby is safe in his basket, safer than he would be in Christian’s arms at that moment. He slumps down in the next room, his back braced against the wall, his head in his hands, and he cries, sobs like his baby is sobbing behind the wall that separates them.

He has the number for social services pinned to the noticeboard in his kitchen and he wants more than anything to call them and ask them to just take the baby away, that he’s the worst parent in the world and he just can’t cope, but he knows that it’s not a phone call he can make. For once it’s not pride that’s stopping him but something else. He’s not giving up on this. He’s going to make sure Matthew ends up where he’s supposed to end up and he’s going to do the best job he can with him in the meantime.

His eyes wet and raw, Christian forces himself to his feet, holding onto his scar with a grimace. Matthew is still crying in his Moses basket and Christian scoops him up with practised ease, placing him on his shoulder and patting his back. It’s not long before Matthew lets out an almighty burp, throwing up down Christian’s back. Christian sighs as the baby begins to quiet. He doesn’t dare put him down again so he throws a towel over the back of the sofa and leans against it to protect the upholstery from the baby sick, holding Matthew close to him as they both drift off to sleep.

He’s so grateful that it’s a race weekend, wishing he’d remembered earlier Matthew’s response to the sound of the engine noise. Through both Friday practice sessions Matthew is quiet and calm and it’s utter bliss for Christian. He sleeps through it himself and he doesn’t even care that he feels disconnected from his job. It’s the most well rested he’s felt since the baby was born and he’s just grateful to feel like his brain is starting to function again.

It doesn’t last long. Matthew is up all night again, only willing to sleep through qualifying the next day so long as Christian doesn’t put him down. The race is the same and Christian feels the tension building in him. How can something so tiny be so demanding? He just wants a couple of hours peace to watch the race without worrying about jostling the baby around but apparently that’s too much to ask. He consoles himself with the fact that, in four more weeks, he can officially give the baby away. He tries not to think about the fact that the court case with Sebastian might not be settled by then.

Sunday night Matthew barely sleeps again and by lunchtime on Monday Christian is at his wit’s end. The sound of the doorbell fills him with relief. He was so close to just walking out on the screaming baby again, leaving him to cry himself out while Christian did likewise. He’s fairly sure it’s not a recommended parenting technique. Maybe his visitor has a better idea.

Christian pulls the door open and freezes when he sees Sebastian standing in front of him, a smile on his face. “Hi,” he says automatically, feeling incredibly stupid.

“Hey,” Sebastian returns. He peers over Christian’s shoulder towards the sound of Matthew crying. “Is he okay?”

“He’s, uh,” Christian struggles and then gives a defeated sigh, leading Sebastian into the house. “Look, I’ve fed him and I’ve changed him and I just, I don’t know what the fuck’s wrong with him, okay?” he says defensively.

“He’s probably tired,” Sebastian says.

“If he’s tired why doesn’t he sleep?” Christian demands. “I’m tired. I’m fucking exhausted. I’d be sleeping right now if he’d shut up for five fucking minutes.”

Sebastian looks at him, concern written all over his features, before shrugging off his coat. “Well, I’m here now,” he says. “Why don’t you go lie down for a bit, I can watch him.”

The offer makes Christian want to cry with gratitude. He knows that it’s probably not smart but he’s at the point where he’d give the baby to anyone right now. “Thank you,” he says, feeling himself sag with relief.

“Don’t worry about it,” Sebastian assures him, reaching down to scoop up the baby. “I’ll settle him down and get him off to sleep. Where’s his room?”

“Wherever I put the Moses basket down,” Christian shrugs, feeling hopelessly inadequate.

Sebastian glances down at it, seeming confused, and then notices the boxes that are still piled up where he left them two weeks ago. “Right,” he says carefully. “He can sleep down here with me then. Works out great.”

Christian sighs but he doesn’t have the energy to get defensive or to assure Sebastian that he hasn’t been shoving his son in corners and forgetting about him. Instead he gives a nod and heads up the stairs, only bothering to get halfway undressed before climbing under the covers

He falls easily into sleep and much deeper and more satisfying than normal. He’s started sleeping lightly since Matthew came along, always on edge, but he finds that having someone else there halves the burden and gives him the freedom to finally switch off. When he wakes again it’s dark outside and he feels strangely disorientated. He climbs from the bed, rubbing his eyes, and walks unsteadily across the room.

Downstairs, Sebastian is sat on the sofa, Matthew in his arms, the volume of the TV down low. Matthew is awake but apparently content and Christian can’t remember the last time the little thing looked so pleased about being conscious. He watches for a moment from the doorway until Sebastian notices him, offering a small smile.

“Sorry,” Christian says, coming into the room. “I didn’t expect to sleep for that long.”

“You look like you needed it,” Sebastian replies. “And we’ve been fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Did you find something to eat?” Christian asks, crossing the room to the kitchen doorway.

“You don’t have much,” Sebastian responds.

Christian frowns, embarrassed. It’s true, he barely bothers to eat anyway and his kitchen is a constant disaster zone of formula and baby bottles.

“I thought we could get some takeout when you woke up,” Sebastian continues.

“Good idea,” Christian nods, even though he knows he should probably make Sebastian leave now. But Sebastian did him a favour, probably saved his life in fact, so the least he could do was let him spend some time with his son.

They order a Chinese, Matthew dozing peacefully while they eat and chat, the conversation strained with all the things they’re not saying. Sebastian loads up the dishwasher and then returns, gazing down at Matthew for a while before he joins Christian back on the sofa.

“How are you doing?” he asks, the question sounding too serious coming from someone who Christian still thinks of as so young.

“I’m... okay,” Christian says hesitantly.

Sebastian smiles but it’s not an amused smile. “It’s alright if you’re not, you know. It must be... tough. When he’s screaming in your face. I’ve had him for one afternoon, you’ve had him for two weeks.”

Christian sighs, sagging against the sofa as he looks over at Matthew. “I have no idea what I’m doing with him. None. I don’t think I’m doing a great job.” He looks at Sebastian. “I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Sebastian asks.

Christian looks back over at Matthew. “Because I can’t do it, and I know you want me to.”

“I could take him for a while,” Sebastian offers. “Let you get some proper rest. I could take care of him until I have to go to Singapore. Things might look different then.”

Christian turns to face him. “Look after him?”

“I could take him to Switzerland with me,” Sebastian says as though it’s the most obvious solution in the world. “Give you a break.”

“Switzerland?” Christian asks, not quite able to get his head around what Sebastian is offering him.

Sebastian shrugs. “If you want. It’s up to you. If you’re getting overwhelmed, I just thought...”

Christian stares at him while he weighs it up in his head. Four more weeks with a baby. Four more weeks or hand him over to Sebastian, let him see how impossible it is to please someone who doesn’t even know what they want, who just screams and shits and demands constantly until you’re out of your head with exhaustion and boredom, and then see whether he agrees that adoption is really such a bad idea. If he knew what this was really like, how much it took, he’d stop fighting Christian in a heartbeat.

“Okay.”

Sebastian blinks in surprise. “Okay?”

“Take him,” Christian agrees. “Until Singapore. I think it’s a good idea.”

Sebastian smiles, looking over at Matthew. “Great. Thank you. It’ll be good for both of us, I promise.”

Christian nods. “I hope so.”

Sebastian goes through to the kitchen and makes some phone calls, his voice nothing more than a murmur in a language Christian doesn’t understand, and he already feels lost. When Sebastian comes back into the living room he’s practically bouncing, a wide smile tugging at his lips even though he clearly tries to hide it.

“Everything okay?” Christian prompts.

“Yeah, everything’s sorted, we can fly tonight,” Sebastian agrees. He looks down at Matthew like he can barely believe it.

“Good,” Christian states. “You’ll need some things.”

Sebastian looks up at him. “Yeah. I can borrow the pram? And a couple of things to keep him occupied while I get him home? I’ll pack a little overnight bag.”

Christian remembers when he brought the baby home, how he had nothing, had to start completely from scratch. If Sebastian hadn’t been there he doesn’t know what he would have done. But maybe it’s good that Sebastian has to go home to an empty house, has to work it out on his own. It’ll only convince him all the quicker what a bad idea this is.

“You’ll need more than an overnight bag,” Christian points out to him. “Where’s he going to sleep? Where are you going to change him? How are you going to make his bottles up?”

“I’ve got all that, don’t worry,” Sebastian dismisses. “Do you have a changing bag or something?”

“What do you mean you’ve got all that?” Christian asks.

Sebastian refocuses on him. “I’ve got a nursery all set up for him, a crib and a changing table and this cute mobile with stars on it and more outfits than he’s ever going to wear because my family got a bit carried away.”

Christian frowns at him. “What? You have a nursery? In your house in Switzerland?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees. “And I’ve got bottles and a steriliser and formula and stacks of nappies. I’m all set.”

Christian just continues to stare at him. “Why do you have a nursery?”

“Because I have a baby,” Sebastian states. “My sister helped me set it up when I got back home.”

Christian shakes his head. “You know you can’t keep him.”

“I know you don’t want me to,” Sebastian agrees. “But I’m fighting for custody. I need to have a home ready for him.”

Christian sags against the sofa and he feels like he’s going to cry again. He sighs, heavy and weighted down. “Seb...” he says sadly, but he doesn’t even know where to start.

“I’ll look after him,” Sebastian promises. “Get some rest, do some thinking. I’ll see you before Singapore.”

Christian nods. He doesn’t know what else to do. Sebastian packs some things into a bag and places Matthew in the carseat. He turns to Christian.

“You wanna say bye?”

Christian looks down at the baby and shakes his head. Sebastian nods, clearly trying to look understanding and not judgemental. He turns to the door.

“Wait, Seb, I nearly forgot,” Christian calls. Sebastian turns back to face him. “He likes the sound of F1 cars. That might help you at four in the morning when he’s refusing to settle.”

Sebastian smiles. “Really? F1 cars?”

Christian shrugs. “I guess it’s a familiar sound, comforting, he’ll have heard it a lot when I was... pregnant.” He mumbles the last word, still embarrassed to say it, admit to it.

Sebastian looks down at Matthew, so much love in the tiny smile that plays over his lips. “It’s so weird that he was inside you.”

“Yeah,” Christian agrees, feeling that familiar hot shame flare inside him. “Weird.”

Sebastian blinks, breaking himself out of his reverie. He looks up at Christian. “I’ll let you know we get home safe.”

“I’m not your mum, you don’t have to,” Christian dismisses.

Sebastian looks at him for a moment, clearly on the brink of saying something before he changes his mind. “Bye then.”

Christian nods. “Have fun.”

Even though Matthew has been fairly calm all evening, thanks to Sebastian, it still feels incredibly quiet without him there. Christian’s not quite sure what to do with himself now that he has the freedom to do anything. He ends up slumped in front of the TV, not really watching it, telling himself he’s just exhausted and things will feel better in the morning.

He doesn’t sleep much that night and he blames it on his lengthy afternoon nap. He lies in bed, staring at the little red light of the baby monitor even though he knows it won’t make a sound. He should save the batteries and turn it off but it feels like the effort would use up far too much energy that he simply can’t spare. The next morning he has nothing to get up for so he stays in bed until lunchtime, even though it doesn’t feel in the slightest bit restful. He only gets up then because he’s gagging for a drink and his stomach is rumbling.

It worries him that he finds it so hard to find a focus over the following couple of days. He doesn’t want the baby around, has been looking forward to the day when he’d be out of the way, and yet his life already feels so worryingly distant from him. Until he gets his job back he realises he has nothing else to focus his energy on. By Wednesday afternoon he’s at such a loss that he ends up putting together the nursery furniture that Sebastian bought him, setting up one of the spare rooms ready for when the baby returns. He has to admit that he’s proud of himself when it’s finished. He wonders if he should feel this kind of pride about his baby too.

On Thursday he has a meeting with Tom, the lawyer, to talk about possible next steps once the DNA results come back. He turns up looking less dishevelled than normal but he knows there’s still bags under his eyes. He should be sleeping like the dead now there’s no screaming baby to stop him but for some reason switching off at night is harder than ever.

“You finally invested in a babysitter,” Tom observes as they sit down.

“What?” Christian asks, feeling lost right from the start.

“No Matthew today,” Tom points out.

“Oh,” Christian says, looking down at the spot on the floor where he usually puts Matthew’s carseat. “He’s with Sebastian for a bit.”

Tom blinks at him. “Sebastian? Sebastian the father?”

“He took Matthew to Switzerland,” Christian explains. “To give me a bit of a break.”

Tom gapes at him and Christian’s not sure why he’s so concerned that they don’t have to conduct this meeting over the sound of a screaming baby for once, Christian’s sanity frayed at the edges.

“Let me get this straight,” Tom says carefully. “You let Sebastian, the person we’re fighting a custody battle against, take the baby out of the country?”

“Look, if he wants to be his father so badly then he can try it out,” Christian says. “He’ll get bored once he sees what hard work it is.”

Tom shakes his head in apparent disbelief. “You do realise you’ve just thrown away this whole case.”

Christian looks at him. “What? Why?”

“By trusting him to take your child you’ve just proven that you consider him to be a competent parent,” Tom says. “When these DNA results come back, we both know what they’re going to say. No judge is going to take the baby away from his biological father after you’ve given him your blessing.”

Christian shrinks down in his chair. “I’m not exactly of sound mind right now,” he says. “Does that count for anything?”

Tom sighs, running a hand through his hair. “And that’s assuming he even brings the baby back. He’s out of the country with him now, he could take him anywhere.”

“He has a race in just over a week, he’s not going to run away with him,” Christian dismisses. “Look, it doesn’t matter if he’s competent, he can’t raise a child, he’s flying around the world every other weekend. This changes nothing.”

Tom looks at him sadly. “Christian, social services will want him with a parent wherever possible. You don’t have a leg to stand on to stop Sebastian getting him now.”

Christian stares down at his lap, feeling the last little piece of hope sliver away from him. He tries to convince himself that Tom is wrong, that his note of finality is misguided, that Sebastian will definitely be getting sick of the baby by now, because he can’t face the thought of what it means if this baby is going to be staying in his life, even if it’s under Sebastian’s care and not his own.

As soon as he gets home he phones Sebastian, pacing up and down the living room as he waits for him to answer. The first thing he hears over the phone line is Matthew screaming. It makes Christian’s gut twist with anxiety and concern, even though he’s so far away

“Is this urgent?” Sebastian asks. “I’m kind of... Can I call you back?”

“Yeah,” Christian agrees, Sebastian’s tone making him feel suddenly shy. “Yeah, that’s fine. Is everything alright?”

“I’ll call you back,” Sebastian promises before hanging up the phone.

Christian sighs, dropping down onto the sofa and instantly regretting the careless movement as his scar reminds him just how little time it’s been since Matthew’s birth. How can his life be so completely unrecognisable to him already? He presses a hand against the raw skin, still pink and fragile looking, as he chews on his lip, his insides winding up with worry. It must be built in, an evolutionary trait, this response he has to the sound of his baby crying. He can’t explain it to himself in any other way, this need he feels to look after something that he doesn’t even want in his life.

It’s half an hour before Sebastian calls him back and Christian spends the entire time staring at his living room wall, possible scenarios running through his head. When the phone finally rings beside him it makes him jump out of his skin.

“Hello?” he asks a little too urgently.

“Hi,” Sebastian replies, his voice quiet and calm. “Sorry about that. There was shit everywhere, I kind of had to deal with it. I need a new rug.”

Christian laughs, the tension in him dissipating so quickly he can barely remember what he was anxious about in the first place. “Tell me about it,” he says. “I think I’m going to need a whole new house when he’s finally gone for good.”

There’s a pause, clear tension down the phone line, and Christian feels instantly bad. He tries to think of a way to apologise without going back on what he’s said but Sebastian speaks first.

“I think I might still be covered in shit,” Sebastian says. “I gave him a bath but I haven’t had chance to shower yet. I’m just giving him his bottle now though so he’ll sleep for a bit, I can jump in. Unless you want to talk, we can talk.”

“It’s fine,” Christian dismisses. “I was just checking in.”

“I have you on speakerphone by the way,” Sebastian says. “I don’t have enough hands to hold the phone as well as everything else. So Matty can hear you if you want to talk to him.”

Christian instantly feels unbearably self-conscious. “That’s okay,” he mutters.

“I think he likes hearing your voice,” Sebastian continues. “He must miss you. Say something.”

Christian closes his mouth, thinks about hanging up the phone. He shifts uncomfortably on the seat. “How are things going with him?” he asks, trying to change the subject.

“Good,” Sebastian says. “He’s settled in well and we’re getting into a routine now.”

“Routine?” Christian asks, not sure how that’s even possible. He didn’t think having his life ruled by a screaming, demanding baby could be called a routine.

“Yeah, he’s sleeping a little more at night which is good,” Sebastian agrees. “And if I’m using the gym at home I can work it around his naps without getting too disrupted. I even managed to go out for a run with Heikki. The old lady down the road agreed to watch Matty, she has grandkids, she loves him.”

Christian can feel his mood darkening at how together Sebastian seems to have everything in just a few days. “Why are you calling him Matty?” he asks irritably. “His name is Matthew.”

“Matty suits him,” Sebastian says unapologetically. “I think he likes it.”

“He doesn’t like anything,” Christian insists. “He’s a baby, he doesn’t have a fucking clue what you’re saying to him.”

There’s a pause. “Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Christian grits out.

There’s another short silence and then Christian can hear Sebastian shifting, hear him saying something affectionately in German. “He’s nearly asleep,” he tells Christian.

“You better go put him down then,” Christian responds. “Wouldn’t want to upset his _routine_.”

“Then we can have a chat?” Sebastian suggests.

“Go have your shower,” Christian tells him, more tired than pissed off now. “You need those moments when he’s asleep. Trust me, I know.”

“It’s not easy,” Sebastian tells him. “Don’t get pissed off with me because I’m making it sound easy. It’s hard. Really hard. But I’m not doing it on my own, which helps a lot. My mum and Fabian came for a couple of days and Hanna’s coming at the weekend and I have that neighbour and Heikki actually managed to help a bit too. No way I could do it on my own.”

Christian considers his words, but it still makes his skin crawl, makes him want to curl up with embarrassment, the thought of anyone he knows watching him trying to take care of a baby. He doesn’t want witnesses and he doesn’t want memories. He just wants to get through this in one piece, but even that’s looking increasingly unlikely.

“Enjoy your shower,” he says.

“Thanks,” Sebastian replies. “Enjoy the peace and quiet.”

“I’m trying,” Christian responds, the words too close to an admission he hasn’t managed to make to himself yet.

Hearing from Sebastian does manage to calm Christian’s nerves about everything. Sebastian is clearly at home, clearly looking after the baby and clearly coping a lot better than Christian has been with him. He tries not to think about what this means for the custody case and instead lets it ease his conscience over giving his baby away to literally the first person who came knocking. This was practice, he tells himself, for when he finds the family who will raise Matthew, taking him off Christian’s hands for good.

With that thought in mind he starts to sleep through the night, even though his slumber seems much lighter than it had in the past, and he makes an effort to eat right, three square meals a day. He talks to Tom about the court case, meets with the woman from the adoption agency to look at potential parents, gets busy with all the things he could never do when he had to put Matthew’s needs ahead of his own.

He’s looking over the files of some of the families he’s considering for the adoption, the woman telling him to take his time over them, look at them in his own home where he’s comfortable, when his phone rings. His stomach does a little flip when he sees Sebastian’s name on the screen.

“Is everything alright?” he asks. “Is Matthew okay?”

“He’s fine,” Sebastian assures him. “He’s asleep, and Hanna’s with him anyway. I thought we could have that chat.”

“Why is Hanna there?” Christian asks.

“To see Matty,” Sebastian responds.

“His name is Matthew,” Christian states.

“Stop trying to pick a fight,” Sebastian tells him. He gives a little breath of laughter. “We’re so married.”

“We’re really not, Seb,” Christian tells him wearily. He sighs, putting the folders aside. He feels like a traitor, looking at them while he’s talking to Sebastian. “What did you want to talk about?”

“I don’t want you to feel bad,” Sebastian says. “And I don’t want to be condescending.”

“You should probably hang up now then,” Christian tells him, but there’s a fondness in his own voice that he doesn’t quite recognise. He hasn’t had much use for it lately.

“I didn’t work this all out overnight,” Sebastian says, ignoring him. “That’s the first thing.”

“Is this going to be a list?” Christian asks dryly. “Should I be taking notes?”

“Do you want my help or not?” Sebastian asks.

“I’m not sure yet,” Christian responds.

“Look, the routine I mentioned, it’s just simple stuff, tips my mum gave me, stuff I read on the Internet,” Sebastian says. “I bet you never asked your mum or looked for any advice. Am I right?”

“You’re an annoying little shit, you know that?” Christian asks.

“When he wakes up in the night, you need to keep the light low, just enough to see what you’re doing, and keep everything quiet and calm,” Sebastian tells him. “And when he wakes up during the day, make sure it’s bright, sunny, talk to him a lot, give him loads of interaction, it really works. He goes back to sleep at night now. Not for long, but he goes back to sleep. It’s really simple stuff, it’ll make your life a lot easier.”

“Right,” Christian agrees. It makes sense. He’s not sure he gives the baby much interaction whatever time of day it is.

“Once you get the hang of it you’ll find that you can cope a lot better than you think,” Sebastian tells him. “It just takes practice.”

“I’m not planning on having much more time to practice on him,” Christian responds.

There’s a pause before Sebastian starts hesitantly again. “But, I mean, it doesn’t take long, and then...”

“I’m not keeping him,” Christian cuts in.

“You should give it a chance,” Sebastian appeals.

“Do you know what I’m doing right now?” Christian asks. “I’m looking at the files of people who want to adopt the baby.”

“Actually, what you’re doing is being spiteful,” Sebastian corrects, but his voice is quiet, more disappointment than anger. “I knew you were going to be like this.”

“Then why the fuck did you call?” Christian asks.

“Because I thought we might be able to discuss it like adults,” Sebastian says. “And not just for my sake. I don’t want you to do anything you’re going to regret. This is a big thing, Christian. Huge.”

“The only thing I regret is getting drunk enough to fuck you,” Christian bites back, hanging up the phone.

He’s too angry to look over the adoption files with a clear head now so he puts them aside and never gets around to picking them up again. He does go on the Internet though, looks at some of those parenting websites that Sebastian was clearly suggesting he should be reading. It’s not that it’s a bad idea, it’s just that looking for parenting tips seemed like admitting a weakness in his resolve to go ahead with this adoption. Sebastian has a point though, making the next few weeks easier on himself certainly wouldn’t hurt.

Three days later, Sebastian is at his door, Matthew fussing in his carseat, just starting with what Christian calls the warning cries before all hell breaks loose. Welcome home.

“You brought him back,” Christian states, staring at the baby.

Sebastian looks bemused. “Did you think I was going to take him to Singapore with me?”

Christian runs a hand through his hair, sighing tiredly. “I don’t know. I thought you might leave him with your family. I wouldn’t blame you. I’m clearly an unfit parent.”

“Don’t say that, you’re doing fine,” Sebastian tells him. “And he should be with his parents, of course I’d bring him back to you.” He looks down at Matthew whose cries are becoming more focussed and determined. “Sorry, he’s hungry, I couldn’t drive and feed him at the same time. I’ll make a bottle up.”

“I can do it,” Christian dismisses, reaching to take the carseat from Seb. He carries it inside, placing it on the kitchen table while he goes through the familiar ritual of putting together the bottle. Once it’s ready he unstraps Matthew, lifting him from the carseat and cradling him in his arms.

“Hey,” he says tenderly as he rocks him slightly, embarrassed when he becomes too aware of Sebastian’s eyes on him. “There you go,” he says, placing the bottle in the baby’s mouth and watching as he starts to suck, instantly placated. He stares at the baby for a moment so that he doesn’t have to address Sebastian’s gaze but it’s too uncomfortable holding the baby stood up, his abdomen still needing the support of a backrest. When he does look up, moving towards the living room, Sebastian smiles at him.

“See,” he says.

“Don’t,” Christian warns him, making his way to the sofa and carefully sitting down. He sighs with relief when he finally manages to shift himself into a comfortable position. Sebastian sits in the chair, still looking at him. “When’s your flight?” Christian asks.

“Not until the morning,” Sebastian tells him. “I thought I could help you with the bedtime routine. And I have something for you.” Christian watches as he heads out of the room, coming back a few moments later with a purple bottle that he places on the coffee table in front of Christian. “My mum gave it to me, it’s lavender, you put it in his bath in the evening and it really helps him sleep.”

“Great,” Christian says, feeling a little overwhelmed. “Thanks.”

He looks down at the baby again, little blue eyes looking back at him, and it’s not that different than looking at Sebastian. They really do look alike. He watches Matthew watching him and he wonders how complex a thought the baby is capable of. He must recognise Christian, an intrinsic survival instinct if nothing else, but does his presence bring some kind of comfort to Matthew? Does this feel like coming home? The thought makes his eyes water and he blinks, trying to hide it. He turns to Sebastian, looking for a distraction.

“How has he been?”

“Great,” Sebastian says enthusiastically. “Perfect.” He looks down at the baby. “I’m going to miss him.” He looks back at Christian. “But I can come see him after Singapore?”

“I’ll probably be ready to give him back to you by then,” Christian grumbles.

Sebastian smiles. “I know he’s exhausting but he’s so worth it.”

Christian looks down at Matthew again. “If you say so.”

He watches as Matthew suckles on his bottle, slowly drifting off to sleep. When the bottle is nearly empty and the baby’s mouth has stilled around the teat, Christian carefully pulls it away, placing it on the table as he waits to see if Matthew will wake. He doesn’t. Christian looks over at Sebastian.

“How do you do your bedtime routine if he’s already asleep?”

Sebastian looks amused. “It’s not bedtime yet. And he won’t sleep for long now anyway. He’s just warm and comfy and full. If you want to keep holding him he’ll sleep longer but if you put him down he’ll probably just nap. I wouldn’t blame you for indulging in a little cuddle.”

Christian gives him a look. “I’ll go put him down.”

“Where’s the Moses basket?” Sebastian asks.

“Oh, I put the crib together,” Christian tells him, getting to his feet.

Sebastian smiles. “Yeah?”

Christian shrugs defensively. “I was at a loose end.”

He carries Matthew upstairs, placing him carefully down in the crib. As he steps back, he frowns at the sight before him. In his Moses basket Matthew always looked perfectly proportioned, but the big crib makes him look so tiny and fragile. Why would something so small need a bed so big? It makes Christian hesitate, not wanting to walk away. He doesn’t look safe with all that space around him. He stays for a moment, leaning against the rails of the crib as he watches over him, convincing himself it’s okay to walk away.

When he gets back downstairs he feels a flash of panic as he sees Sebastian sitting on the sofa, looking over the adoption files. He strides over, snatching them out of Sebastian’s grasp.

“What are you doing?” he demands.

Sebastian shrugs. “Just taking a look. Have you chosen anyone?”

“Not yet,” Christian says, shuffling the files self-consciously in his hands. “I shouldn’t have left them out.”

“I’m glad you did,” Sebastian says. He frowns slightly. “They’re all very English middle class, not much variety.”

“It’s got nothing to do with you,” Christian tells him, putting the files aside.

“So my opinion about my son’s future doesn’t matter to you at all?” Sebastian asks.

Christian sits down beside him. “You wouldn’t be happy with any of them, you’d only point out their flaws to me.”

Sebastian sighs. “Maybe,” he agrees. He takes his phone from his pocket, checking the display, and Christian’s eyes are drawn to the light.

“Do you have a photo of Hanna on there?” he asks.

Sebastian smiles widely, that schoolboy in love look. “Oh, yeah,” he says, lifting his phone back up again and unlocking the display to show Christian more clearly. It is Hanna, smiling shyly to the camera, Matthew in her arms. “I took it this weekend. Don’t they look good together?”

Christian frowns. He can’t quite identify the feeling in his gut, something like failure. She certainly looks better with Matthew than he ever has. “You two are back together?” he asks.

“No,” Sebastian dismisses. “No, not like that. I mean, nothing’s changed, I’m still away too much, she can’t wait ten years for a _real_ commitment, whatever that is.” He rolls his eyes and he looks so young. “But we’re still friends, we were always friends. It was nice to have her around for a bit”

“Yeah,” Christian agrees vaguely, but he can’t help thinking playing house with your ex-girlfriend must be more than a little complicated. Still, Sebastian and Hanna do things their own way and Sebastian has always been understated about his relationship with Hanna; it was nearly two years before anyone in the team even met her. “Do you want a drink?” he offers.

“I’ll do it,” Sebastian tells him, getting to his feet and crossing the room. “You want a cup of tea?”

“I know you’re trying to help, but it’s actually kind of rude to make yourself so at home in someone else’s house,” Christian calls after him, listening to the sounds of Sebastian moving around the kitchen. A couple of minutes later he appears at the doorway, leaning against the frame as he sips from a glass of milk, the kettle boiling in the background. He looks at Christian for a moment, considering something.

“Can I stay tonight?”

“Probably not a good idea,” Christian tells him. Sebastian looks towards the stairs. “I’ll be better with him, honestly, I’m turning over a new leaf,” Christian assures him.

Sebastian meets his gaze. “Yeah, I know. I just thought...”

“Is your flight early?” Christian cuts in.

“Not too early,” Sebastian responds.

“You might be best staying at the hotel at the airport,” Christian suggests. “You can sleep longer in the morning.”

Sebastian nods, taking another sip of his milk. The kettle clicks off behind him and he disappears back into the kitchen.

Matthew sleeps for another hour. Sebastian goes up to fetch him, changing his nappy before bringing him downstairs along with his baby blanket. He throws the blanket on the floor and then lays Matthew carefully on top of it, sitting down by his side. He smiles down at him, leaning down and tickling his tummy while making funny noises at him.

“Isn’t he a bit little for that?” Christian asks, worried that Sebastian is being a bit rough with him. Whenever Christian holds him he’s always fearful he’ll snap.

“What? He likes it,” Sebastian insists. “You like it, don’t you? Matty likes the tickle monster,” he says in a baby voice, doing it again. The baby wriggles slightly but otherwise looks unimpressed. Christian’s never seen the baby look impressed about much though.

After a while Sebastian calms down, using gentler tickles and caresses. He places his index fingers against Matthew’s palm and Matthew closes his tiny hand, holding on tight. It makes Sebastian smile down at him. He leans further over, opening his mouth and staring down at the baby like he’s gaping at him. Christian frowns, wondering what he’s trying to do, but after a few moments he notices the baby’s lips part in response. He stares.

“Did he just copy you?”

“Yeah,” Sebastian says, smiling proudly, his eyes not leaving Matthew’s. “He’s a little Einstein.”

“But how... Is he supposed to be able to do that?” Christian asks.

Sebastian laughs, looking up at him. “It’s how he learns. Imitation. Like studying the telemetry and copying a hot lap.”

“Don’t use racing analogies on the baby,” Christian says.

Sebastian focuses back on Matthew, sticking his tongue out slightly this time. Sure enough, after some concentrated staring from Matthew, his little tongue pokes out.

“That’s amazing,” Christian says. He gets to his feet, sitting at the other side of Matthew on the floor, his hand instinctively pressed against his stomach. “What else can he do?”

“He’s not a performing dog,” Sebastian tells him. “You should try it though. It’s a great way to bond. Fabian loves it.”

Christian looks at him. “He does that for Fabian?”

“Fabian put the hours in,” Sebastian tells him. “He laid on the floor with him for ages just... connecting.” Christian frowns, looking down at the baby. Even a child is better with Matthew than he is. “We don’t want him to copy that expression,” Sebastian jokes, nudging Christian’s shoulder. Christian gives him a look. “Watch him for a second?” Sebastian asks. Christian nods and Sebastian gets up, retrieving his bag from the kitchen. He places it down beside him, opening it up and pulling out various little toys. “He loves textures and shapes,” Sebastian tells Christian. “More learning. Everything is learning at this age.”

He holds the hard plastic of one toy against Matthew’s palm and Christian watches as Matthew grips it like he gripped Sebastian’s finger. He doesn’t hold on for as long though, letting it slip from his grasp. Sebastian offers him the soft arm of a teddy bear instead. He holds onto that for longer. Each time his fingers release something, Sebastian offers him something else, watching over him carefully, smiling at things that Christian can’t even see.

“You’re like super dad,” Christian says, his voice equal parts irritation and wonder.

Sebastian laughs, shaking his head. “I just read a lot. I take it as it comes. Everything’s learning for me too.” Christian nods. Sebastian looks up at him. “You want to try?”

Christian looks down at the tiny hand that rests near his leg on the blanket. He brushes his fingers over Matthew’s palm, not really with any intention, but Matthew is quick to grasp hold of him, not letting go. Christian lifts his finger slightly, Matthew’s fist coming with it. Christian tilts his head, wondering at the warm feeling inside his gut. When he meets Matthew’s eyes, it only grows.

When Matthew finally lets go of him, Christian looks up to see Sebastian grinning at him. “What?” Christian asks defensively.

“Nothing,” Sebastian shrugs, looking back down at Matthew. “Just, he’s pretty amazing, don’t you think?” He strokes Matthew’s forehead, his wispy little hairs. “I can never get bored when he’s around. You can lose whole afternoons just staring at him.”

Christian looks down at the baby. The whole two weeks he had Matthew on his own he felt constantly bored and frustrated and desperately unhappy. He’s not sure he can admit that to Sebastian though, not when he’s looking at Matthew like that. He feels the guilt tugging at him at the thought of splitting Sebastian and Matthew up and those tears are clouding his eyes again. He sits back, rubbing at them with the back of his hand. Sebastian looks up at him, hesitating for a moment.

“Bath time?” he suggests. Christian just nods.

Christian’s competent enough at bathing Matthew, he coped with it on his own for two weeks, but between the slipperiness and the worry of drowning him he never quite felt at ease with it. Sebastian apparently has no such hang-ups. He’s confident and gentle and soothing, the scent of the lavender threatening to make even Christian’s eyes close. He joins in, following Sebastian’s lead, and finds that it’s actually quite a pleasant experience.

He takes the wet baby from Sebastian once they’re done, wrapped in his soft little towel, and takes him through to the nursery. Sebastian goes downstairs to get a bottle ready while Christian dries the baby off, puts a clean nappy on him and gets him into his little sleepsuit. Sebastian hands him the bottle and plugs in a little nightlight he’d brought upstairs with him, probably another goody from his bag of tricks.

“You don’t need more light than this at night,” he tells Christian. “And when you get up with him in the night you won’t go waking him up more by putting a big light on. Helps him settle back down again.”

Christian nods. The soft, warm glow is comforting. He sits in the chair by the crib, cradling Matthew close to him as he offers him his bottle. Matthew accepts it, eyes already closing as he suckles lazily. He’s asleep before he’s even finished the bottle. Christian places him down in his crib, still put off by how tiny he looks in there. He turns to Sebastian who smiles at him. He reaches down, stroking Matthew’s hair before leaning over to kiss his forehead, whispering something in German. He leads the way out of the room.

“He should sleep for four, maybe five hours now,” he says as they head back down the stairs.

Christian offers him an impressed look. “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Sebastian tells him. “You’ll be fine.” He looks down at the baby blanket and the toys scattered around the living room floor. “Keep those. I’ve got loads more. Play with him during the day, it helps him know that he’s supposed to be awake.”

Christian nods, trying to look like he’s taking it all in. “Okay.”

Sebastian smiles at him. “I’ll leave you to it then. I’ll call you when I get to Singapore.”

“Yeah,” Christian agrees. “Good luck for the race.”

“Make sure Matty watches,” Sebastian tells him.

“For sure, it’s the only thing that keeps him quiet,” Christian agrees.

Sebastian gives him a little wave, heading for the door, and Christian tries not to feel too nervous about being left on his own again.

Matthew sleeps for four and a half hours that night, the longest stretch Christian has ever seen him go. When he gets up with him in the early hours he follows Sebastian’s advice, keeping everything quiet and calm, and sure enough Matthew goes back off to sleep again, not waking for another two and a half hours. Christian feels like someone has just taught him a magic trick.

He sticks to the bedtime routine and he feels a weight lifted from his shoulders at not having to constantly get up and down during the night to deal with Matthew. It’s nothing like the eight hours uninterrupted sleep he would have without a baby in the house, but he’s so grateful for just a few continuous hours rest. He has to accept that his life is different now.

It’s the daytimes that Christian struggles with more. He lays Matthew on the blanket, tries to play with him like Sebastian did, but he just feels hideously self-conscious and he’s sure he must be making the baby uncomfortable. His eyes don’t light up for Christian in the same way they seemed to light up for Sebastian. Christian doesn’t blame him; he knows there’s really no comparison.

Still, there’s a few hours of cars on track everyday and Christian sits with Matthew to watch the action, offering his own commentary because talking to babies is supposed to be good for them, according to the websites, and because it helps him work through his own anxiety at not being there at the track. After Singapore there’s only six races left in the season and it’s looking increasingly unlikely that Christian will be there for any of them. He’s never felt so far away from everything he’s worked for.

Sebastian calls every day, asking to be put on speakerphone so that Matthew can hear him. Christian does as he’s told, listening to the news from the paddock before Sebastian changes his voice, using that high, sing-song tone that Christian’s sure Matthew doesn’t respond to any better than anything else. When he starts speaking in German Christian’s tempted to go and make a cup of tea. He’s clearly not needed here.

On Monday night he’s upstairs with Matthew, giving him his bedtime bottle before putting him down, when he hears someone knocking on the door. He looks down at Matthew who stirs slightly. Christian’s not sure if this bedtime routine is something that can be picked up again after an interruption, but he’s really not brave enough to try it. There’s another knock and Christian balances the baby with one arm while he awkwardly fishes his phone out of his pocket, calling Sebastian’s number.

“I assume you’re the person banging on my door.”

There’s a pause. “Sorry,” Sebastian says.

“It’s fine,” Christian tells him. “I’m just giving Matthew his bottle. Can you give me five minutes?”

“Sure,” Sebastian agrees. “No rush.”

Matthew goes down easily enough and Christian waits for a moment, always expecting the other shoe to drop and the baby to start screaming again, but he just lays there contentedly, eyes closed in slumber, so Christian heads downstairs and opens the door.

“Sorry,” Sebastian says again as he steps inside. “I was supposed to be here earlier but there was a delay.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Christian dismisses. “I’ve actually played with his bedtime a bit, I hope you don’t mind, it’s just better for me if he goes down later, then I know I can get off to sleep straight away too.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Whatever works for you.” He puts his hands in his pocket, shifts his weight from one foot to the other. “Can I go see him?”

“If you wake him up, I’ll kill you,” Christian tells him.

Sebastian grins at him and heads up the stairs. Christian sits down on the sofa, yawning as he stretches his arms over his head. The action stretches his scar, making him wince slightly. He lifts his top to examine it, wondering when it will stop looking so obvious. He hates the thought of having to carry it around for the rest of his life. When he hears Sebastian’s footsteps on the stairs again he pulls his shirt back down, looking up. Sebastian has that loved up expression on his face.

“Still asleep?” Christian asks.

Sebastian nods, leaning in the doorway. “So tempting to just scoop him up for a cuddle though. I missed him.” Christian looks down, playing with the hem of his shirt. “I should probably let you get to bed.”

“Yeah,” Christian agrees, trying to stifle another yawn.

“Sorry I got here so late,” Sebastian says. “I can take him tomorrow. First thing if you want. I’ll get a hotel for tonight.”

“You can stay here,” Christian tells him, looking up.

Sebastian raises his eyebrows. “You sure?”

Christian nods. “You can get up with him in the night.”

Sebastian smiles. “Deal.”

Christian shows Sebastian to the guest room and then fetches the baby monitor from beside his bed, handing it to Sebastian. “All yours,” he tells him.

“Thank you,” Sebastian tells him earnestly. “I’ll take care of everything, don’t worry, sleep in as long as you like tomorrow.”

Christian retires to his own bedroom, leaving the door slightly open out of habit if nothing else. He’s never fully trusted the baby monitor, things like that can fail, he always makes sure that he’ll hear Matthew’s cries without it. He climbs into bed and, as is usual lately, he falls asleep pretty much as soon as his head hits the pillow.

When he wakes up in the darkness he’s not quite sure what’s roused him at first. He looks to the bedside table for the little red light of the baby monitor and it takes him a moment to remember why it’s not there. The sound of Matthew crying is distant so Sebastian must be already downstairs with him. Without even thinking about it Christian pushes the covers back, going down to join them.

“You want me to hold him while you do the bottle?” Christian offers.

Sebastian startles at the sound of his voice, turning around to face him. “I’ve got it,” he replies. “Go back to sleep.”

“I’ll do the bottle then,” Christian says, encouraging Sebastian out of the way.

Sebastian sighs but lets him do it, rocking Matthew in his arms while he waits for it to be ready. “Thank you,” he says as Christian hands it over. He carries Matthew through to the living room and sits in the chair, only the dim light from the kitchen shining through. It makes everything feel small and intimate. Christian lays down on the sofa, watching them both across the room.

“You can go back to bed,” Sebastian tells him quietly. Christian just shakes his head. Sebastian looks back down at the baby, smiling softly at him. He looks so at home. Christian doesn’t know why that fact makes his gut twist so much.

“I don’t think I want you to take him again,” Christian admits.

Sebastian looks up at him. “What?”

“I...” Christian tries, but he doesn’t even know where to start. “I don’t want you to take him. Not right now. I want to keep him with me.”

Sebastian frowns. “You don’t want me to take him?” he asks. “But you’ll give him to some stranger?”

Christian groans, rolling onto his back. “I don’t know.”

Sebastian seems to consider him for a moment. “What don’t you know?”

“I don’t know anything right now,” Christian tells him. “I just... I don’t know. I don’t think you should take him.”

“You don’t know if you want to go through with the adoption?” Sebastian asks carefully.

“That’s...” Christian starts hesitantly, but there’s simply no answer to that question. He doesn’t want the baby but none of his solutions seem as neat and tidy as they once did either. He wants things to go back to how they were before and he knows that’s the one thing he can’t have.

He hears Sebastian muttering in German and turns his head to see him leaning down to Matthew, talking softly to him as he strokes the side of his face. It looks like such a tender moment and Christian feels so far away from it.

“What are you saying to him?” he asks.

Sebastian looks up at him with something like a shrug. “Sentimental little nothings,” he says. Christian nods, even though he has no idea what he’s talking about. Sebastian gets to his feet. “I’ll go put him down.”

Christian follows him up the stairs, going into the guest room and taking the baby monitor from beside the bed. Sebastian comes out of the nursery, looking at him.

“I can do the whole night shift, I don’t mind,” he insists. “You look like you really need some sleep.”

“Yeah,” Christian agrees. He wraps his fingers lightly around Sebastian’s wrist and pulls him towards his bedroom, not letting go until they’re at the foot of the bed.

“What’s happening?” Sebastian asks.

“Let’s do it together,” Christian says. “Just for one night.”

Sebastian looks at him for a moment. “What does that mean?”

“It’s means...” Christian begins. “It means I don’t have to do it all on my own. Okay?”

Sebastian bites down on his lip, a sad look in his eyes. He nods his head. “Okay.”

He takes the baby monitor from Christian and places it beside the bed before they both climb under the covers.

A couple of hours later he hears Matthew’s cries, quiet at first but he knows the pattern well enough now. He opens his eyes to see Sebastian rousing himself, the little dots on the baby monitor behind him jumping up and down. It’s strange how much easier it feels to get out of the bed when there’s someone else in it. It feels counter-intuitive, but seeing a sleepy Sebastian somehow makes it feels like less of a burden. Maybe part of him feels the need to look after Sebastian too.

“I’ll go,” he tells him, pushing the covers aside.

He lifts Matthew from the crib, placing him on the changing table and unfastening the bottom of his sleepsuit to get at the wet nappy. Matthew squirms and squawks while he does it but even in the dim light of the nightlight Christian gets on with it. He could do this in his sleep by now. Once Matthew is all cleaned up and a fresh nappy put on, Christian cradles the fussing baby in his arms, rocking him slightly.

“I know, I know,” he murmurs.

He remembers Sebastian downstairs, his sentimental little nothings, the affection that was clearly behind it, and he thinks maybe that’s why Matthew seems to respond better to him than he does to Christian. The logical part of his brain knows that Matthew doesn’t understand language, but he figures it’s worth a shot. It seems to calm him.

“Okay,” Christian says softly. “I suppose you are... very... cute? Fuck, I’m not very good at this.” He shifts Matthew in his arms, holds him closer, strokes the side of his face. “Yeah,” he says. “I guess sentimental’s not my thing. I’m trying here. And you are cute, you’re just... not really what I want. I mean, let’s face it, I don’t like you and you don’t like me and once you’re gone it’s going to be so much better for both of us.” He feels the tears welling at his eyes but he doesn’t have a spare hand to wipe them away. “It’s for the best,” he says. “We both know that. Deep down. No point getting attached.” Matthew has quietened in his arms, beginning to doze again, so Christian takes a chance on placing him down in the crib. He leans over the railing, looking down at him as he drifts off into slumber. “We’re no good for each other at all.”

He leaves the room, climbing back under the covers as quietly as he can, but Sebastian is still awake, looking at him in the darkness. Christian looks back, trying and failing to read his expression, and then his eyes drift up to that little red dot. The baby monitor.

“Fuck,” he says, throwing the covers off himself before rushing out of the room.

The light is still on in the kitchen and he sits down on the sofa, hoping the soft glow will somehow be kinder on him. Sebastian comes into the room, rubbing at his sleepy eyes.

“Shall I put the kettle on?” he asks. “As we’re both definitely awake now.”

“I’m sorry,” Christian tells him. “I’m so fucking sorry, I’m a horrible person.”

Sebastian moves over to sit beside him. “You’re really not.”

Christian gives him a look. “What kind of a person...” He stops, ducking his head down, unable to say it. “What kind of a person can’t love their own child?” he manages to choke out.

“That’s not what you said,” Sebastian dismisses. “You said you didn’t like him, that’s different.”

“It’s not _good_ ,” Christian shoots back.

“You should give yourself a break,” Sebastian tells him. “You’re going through a lot. I mean, he turned your life upside down, of course you’re going to have... feelings about that. And a lot of new mothers suffer from post-natal depression so...”

“Don’t use that word,” Christian tells him.

“Depression?” Sebastian asks.

“Mother,” Christian grits out.

Sebastian presses his lips together, looking awkward. “Sorry,” he says quietly.

Christian shakes his head. He draws his legs up onto the sofa beneath him, hunching his body over slightly as he turns to face Sebastian. “When I was in my early teens,” he begins, eyes cast downwards, “I had some... abnormalities. I had to go for a lot of tests and they found out that... I mean, well, something wasn’t quite right. On the outside everything was normal. Everything _is_ normal. I have everything a normal man has and all of it is fully functioning. But then they found out that I had... some extras. Inside. Some parts that you’d normally find in a girl.” He dares to lift his eyes up. Sebastian looks thoughtful and a little confused.

“So that’s how you could...”

“Yeah,” Christian agrees. “But, I mean, I wasn’t being reckless. I didn’t know that could happen. They said that the female parts were... just for show. They weren’t supposed to work.”

Sebastian frowns slightly. “So on the outside you’re a man and on the inside you’re...”

“I’m a man,” Christian insists. “This doesn’t change what I am. I’m still a man. It took me a long fucking time to come to terms with that, okay.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees. “I didn’t mean anything. I’m just trying to get my head around the biology.”

Christian sighs, looking back down again. “Every time I look at Matthew he makes me feel so inadequate. He reminds me of everything I went through when I was a teenager. And I can’t stand it, I can’t stand the thought of him being this constant reminder, this living, breathing piece of evidence against me. I need him to be gone so I can get over it again.”

“But you said it yourself, it doesn’t change anything,” Sebastian says. “And even if he’s gone, that won’t change anything either.”

“At least I won’t have to look at him and hate myself anymore,” Christian responds. Sebastian is silent. Christian squeezes his eyes shut, his cheeks heated, his skin crawling with shame. “I’ve never told anyone that before.”

“I’m glad you told me,” Sebastian says. “It helps.”

“So that’s why I can’t keep him,” Christian says. “Apart from the impracticality and the fact that I want my job back and the fact that maternal instincts clearly aren’t a part of this fucked up deal.”

“But...” Sebastian begins hesitantly. Christian opens his eyes, looking at him. “I could still keep him,” he says meekly, like he already knows the response he’s going to get but can’t help trying.

Christian shakes his head sadly. “I can’t. I can’t watch you raise him, I can’t watch him growing up from the outside. That’s no better than having him in my life. That way I’ll just feel like a failure as well as a freak.”

Sebastian grits his jaw. “I shouldn’t have to beg for you to not give my baby away. He’s _my_ baby. I love him.”

“I know,” Christian says. He doesn’t have a defence against that and so he doesn’t even try. It’s unfair, he knows it is, but he feels like, with the distraction of racing, Sebastian will get over losing the baby much more easily than Christian could ever cope with keeping him around. He’s not sure he’s really got the right to quantify it like that though.

“It’s two more weeks before he can be officially adopted anyway, right?” Sebastian says. “So can’t you wait? Can’t you just put it all on hold for two weeks and think about it?”

“You think I haven’t thought about it?” Christian asks.

“Please,” Sebastian implores. “If you have even the smallest doubt then you need to not do this. I saw you earlier this evening, you said you didn’t know. So wait. Please.”

Christian takes a breath, letting it out as a sigh. He swallows, meeting Sebastian’s eye. “I know now,” he says. Sebastian’s face falls, a pleading look in his eyes. Christian gets to his feet. “You can’t take him tomorrow.”

“Don’t do this,” Sebastian begs. “He’s my baby.”

Christian considers him for a moment before nodding his head. “I’m sorry.”

The next morning, Christian watches Sebastian say a tearful goodbye to his son and it’s one of the hardest things he’s ever had to witness. He’s watched victories snatched away at the last moment, watched championships slip away, but this is worse. Everything in his life seems to be held up to different standards now; tragedies smaller and so much more painful.

“I’ll let you see him again,” Christian assures him. “I mean, even if... I’m not cutting you off. I just need to keep him with me right now. I need to work some things out.”

Sebastian nods and he looks so battered and broken down. He looks at Matthew one last time and then turns around, heading for the door.

Christian looks over the adoption files with fresh eyes, knowing that he needs to make a decision. Sebastian might still be holding things up with the court case, but if Christian can prove that he’s found a suitable family who have agreed to take Matthew then maybe everyone can just agree that it’s the best, most stable option and everything can finally get back to normal. Christian’s not sure he even knows what that word means anymore though.

He finally decides on Paul and Linda, a couple in their early thirties who have been married for eight years and trying for a baby just as long. They live in a nice area of the country, rural without being cut off, close to a number of good schools. Paul is an accountant and Linda is a nurse. Their personal statement is warm and friendly with a hint of humour.

Christian phones up the adoption agency and a few days later he finds himself dressing up Matthew in a tiny checked shirt with coordinating beige trousers, a knitted cardigan finishing off the ensemble. Christian straps him into his carseat, hoping he doesn’t throw up on it before they get there.

As he waits outside the room, talking to Sandy from the adoption agency, he realises his hands are sweating as he holds onto the carseat, his heart pounding away in his chest. He can’t remember the last time he was this nervous about something. He tells himself it’s just because of how much he needs this to go right.

“This is just a meeting,” Sandy reminds him. “No one’s agreeing to anything here, it’s just a chance for you and the perspective parents to meet, get to know each other a little, and we’ll take it from there.”

“Right,” Christian agrees, nodding.

“Do you want to begin?” Sandy asks.

Christian looks to the door, taking a deep breath before telling himself to stop being so overdramatic. He sighs. “Let’s do it.”

Sandy opens the door and Christian walks inside. He feels himself putting on the smile he uses for greeting important guests at Grand Prix weekends. Paul and Linda sit on a sofa on one side of the room, dressed smartly and holding hands like something out of a magazine. Christian guesses he’s supposed to sit on the other sofa but it feels a bit lonely on his own. He puts the carseat down on the floor, Linda immediately sitting forward to look at Matthew as Sandy takes a seat between the two groups.

“He’s gorgeous,” Linda coos.

Christian looks down at him. “He takes after his father, that’s for sure.” There’s an awkward moment when he realises Paul and Linda must think he’s talking about himself. He clears his throat. “Would, uh, would you like to hold him?”

“Do you mind?” Linda asks.

Christian shakes his head, leaning down to unstrap Matthew from the carseat. He lifts him up, moving over to where Linda is sat, and he feels a slight tug of hesitation. He’s never let anyone else hold the baby; even Sebastian has to pick him up on his own when he wants him. He lowers Matthew carefully into Linda’s arms, feeling uneasy about it.

“You have to be careful with his head,” he finds himself saying like some kind of neurotic parent. “Sorry, I’m sure you know that,” he dismisses, moving back to give her some space.

He sits back on the sofa and he watches her face, the love and happiness that crosses over it like all of her dreams have come true. Paul shifts closer to her, leaning over to look at Matthew, and it’s such a beautiful family portrait, but Christian can’t help feeling like something is missing. He remembers the look on Sebastian’s face the first time he held Matthew in the hospital, that overwhelmed joy and adoration, and Linda and Paul’s expressions of happiness, as heartfelt and warming as they are, could never compare.

They chat while Linda holds the baby, talking about their jobs, how their lives would work with Matthew in it, the house that they live in, their dreams for their child. They say all the right things, everything Christian could want to hear, but he’s pleased when Matthew starts fussing for his bottle and he has an excuse to take him back again. Sandy prompts Christian to talk about what he hopes to get out of the adoption, how involved he’d want to be, which is not at all, and what he wants for Matthew, which is everything. By the time the meeting’s over, Christian feels exhausted and he envies the dozing Matthew. He wishes he could just close his eyes and shut out the world for a while.

“What did you think?” Sandy asks once they’re alone.

“They’re not right,” Christian dismisses, concentrated on strapping Matthew back into his carseat.

“Oh?” Sandy says, surprised. “What about them didn’t feel right?”

“I don’t know,” Christian responds. “Something about it felt... wrong. They weren’t the ones.” He stops what he’s doing and looks up at Sandy. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to waste anyone’s time and I really didn’t mean to get their hopes up. On paper they looked like exactly what I was looking for but meeting them... I’m not sure.”

“That’s okay,” Sandy assures him. “Maybe you need to take some time to reconsider what it is you’re looking for and what you’re hoping to get out of it,” she suggests.

Christian shakes his head. “No, we need to keep the momentum going. There were some other couples I had shortlisted, we’ll meet one of those.”

Sandy looks at him carefully for a moment. “Sometimes when it doesn’t feel right it’s not because the adoptive parents aren’t right, it’s because something else isn’t right.”

Christian gives her a stern look. “What are you implying?”

“I’m not implying anything,” Sandy says. “I’m just saying that this is bound to be a complicated situation with lots of things to take into account and it’s possible you might need some more time.”

Christian looks down at Matthew, pursing his lips together. He turns back to Sandy. “Let’s meet with someone else.”

Sandy hesitates. “You really shouldn’t be meeting with families until you’re sure of your motives.”

“I am sure,” Christian tells her, leaning down to pick up Matthew. “I’ll be in touch.”

Sandy’s clearly not pleased about it but they meet with two further sets of adoptive parents and Christian gets the same incomplete feeling with both of them. They’re lovely, caring people and Matthew would clearly mean the world to them, but there’s just something missing.

As he returns home from his third failed attempt, he pulls into his driveway to see Sebastian sitting on his doorstep. He gets to his feet as Christian climbs from the car, offering a little wave.

“I was at the factory,” he explains. “Doing some simulator work to get ready for Korea. Thought, as I was so close, you wouldn’t mind me coming to say hello.” He shrugs, his shoulders hunching up for longer than is necessary, and he looks small and nervous.

“It’s fine,” Christian assures him.

Sebastian smiles and walks to the back of the car, opening the door where Matthew’s carseat is. “Hi, Matty.” He tilts his head slightly, looking bemused. “What is he wearing?”

“Can you bring him in for me?” Christian asks, moving to unlock the front door.

“Come on, Matty,” Sebastian says. “I think he’s trying to turn you into him.” 

Christian rolls his eyes, shaking his head slightly as he heads inside. He fills the kettle up as he waits for Sebastian to follow him.

“Where did you take him dressed like this?” Sebastian asks, putting the carseat on the kitchen table and then taking his phone out of his pocket.

“Do you want a drink?” Christian asks, avoiding the question, but he’s sure the blush on his cheeks must give something away. Sebastian isn’t looking at him though, he’s pointing the phone towards Matthew. “What are you doing?”

Sebastian smiles as he snaps a photograph of Matthew. “Sending it to Hanna. She’ll love this.”

Christian nods, switching on the kettle. “So you two are..?”

“No,” Sebastian dismisses, focussed on his phone. “I mean, she’s been staying with me since Singapore, so maybe. It’s kind of like old times, but with less sex.” He grins at Christian and then immediately looks embarrassed about it, like he’s accidently told a dirty joke in front of his dad. He shakes his head. “I don’t know. Nothing’s changed from a year ago. I can’t promise her anything now I couldn’t promise her then.”

Christian nods. “This is what I’m talking about, Seb,” he states, leaning against the worktop. “If you can’t keep a relationship going with your lifestyle, how are you going to raise a child?”

Sebastian fusses with his phone for a moment before putting it in his pocket, and it’s clear he doesn’t have an answer. He leans down to Matthew, unstrapping him from the carseat. “So where did you take him?”

“We, uh, we went to meet some possible parents,” Christian tells him.

Sebastian looks up sharply. He seems hurt and maybe a little disappointed. “Oh,” he says, turning back to Matthew. He lifts the baby into his arms. “How did it go?”

Christian shakes his head, turning to make a cup of tea. “They weren’t the right ones.” He sighs as he stirs the teabag in his cup. “They were the third ones I’ve met. I thought this would be easier.”

“You’ve met three sets of parents now?” Sebastian asks. Christian nods, turning back to face him, drink in hand. Sebastian raises his eyebrows. “You’re really trying hard to get rid of him.”

“I’m trying to do what’s best for him,” Christian corrects firmly. “If I was just trying to get rid of him I would have given him to that first couple.” Sebastian looks down at Matthew. “I think he’s wet, by the way,” Christian tells him, heading through to the living room. “And those trousers are a fucking nightmare to get on and off.”

“I’ll deal with it,” Sebastian says. “And maybe you shouldn’t swear in front of him so much.”

Christian turns to give him a look. “No more parenting advice.”

“I’m just saying,” Sebastian mutters, walking past him towards the stairs.

Christian sits down with a sigh, sipping his tea. He puts the TV on, letting himself relax and unwind for a bit. When he finishes his drink Sebastian still hasn’t returned and Christian gets to his feet, heading up the stairs to look for him. As he gets onto the landing he can hear Sebastian talking quietly in German but it’s not the tone he uses when he’s talking to Matthew. He walks along the hall, peering in the doorway.

Matthew is laid on his baby blanket on the floor, dressed in just his nappy and undershirt. Sebastian is laid beside him, propped up on one elbow as he presses his phone to his ear, his freehand tickling over Matthew’s bare legs with one of his stuffed animals. Sebastian looks up, pausing when he sees Christian before straightening himself up, saying something into the phone. He hangs up, looking like he’s been caught in the act.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Christian says. “I just came to check on you. You’d been gone a while.”

“Got talking to Hanna,” Sebastian says, putting his phone aside. He looks down at Matthew. “I’ll dress him again. Those clothes were just a little stiff, I thought he might want to kick around a bit.”

“He’s alright, it’s warm in here,” Christian dismisses. He sits down on the floor at the other side of Matthew, looking down at him. “You were talking about me?” he asks.

“We were talking about the adoption,” Sebastian says.

“And what’s Hanna’s take?” Christian asks.

Sebastian reaches out to stroke the side of Matthew’s face with such tenderness. “She said that we can do it for real someday,” he says. “If this... If you...” He closes his eyes. “She said I’m an amazing dad and we’ll definitely have kids, even if...”

Christian looks at him. “This is the girl you’re not dating?”

Sebastian gives a little laugh but he keeps his eyes closed and Christian suspects it’s because he’s going to cry. “How do I tell her that’s not enough? I mean, it’s everything, but it’s not enough.” He finally opens his eyes, shining with unshed tears. “I want him too.”

Christian feels that twist in his gut and he has to look away. He’s never going to find this in anyone else he realises. He’s never going to find anyone who loves Matthew as much as Sebastian does. Christian looks back down at Matthew and he tries to let go. This isn’t what he’d planned for his life but he knows better than anyone that when you go into a spin you have to steer into it rather than fight it if you ever want to get control back. Maybe it’s time for him to stop looking at what he’s lost and start trying to work out what he can do with what he has. It’s time to turn into the spin.

“I want to go back to work,” he tells Sebastian.

Sebastian looks up at him, frowning. He blinks a couple of times. “Yeah. You can, can’t you? I thought that was the plan.”

Christian nods. “I worked too hard to get where I am, I built it all up, I can’t just walk away from that.”

Sebastian just stares at him, clearly confused. “I know. No one’s asking you to give up your job.”

“If I’m on the pitwall and you’re racing, who’s looking after Matthew?” Christian asks.

Sebastian shakes his head. “Please don’t try to justify this again.”

“Just hear me out,” Christian appeals. Sebastian sighs, dropping his head down, and he looks so exhausted. “Maybe we can compromise.”

Sebastian goes very still, his eyes widening slightly and Christian worries that this is going to be like talking to those adoptive parents again. He feels like the worst person in the world for getting their hopes up, dangling a baby in front of them, and then leaving their dreams in tatters. Eight years Paul and Linda had waited for a baby. How much longer would they have to wait now?

Sebastian lifts his head up slowly, looking at Christian like he really doesn’t dare to get his hopes up, but it’s there, shining in his eyes, and Christian needs to be sure about this. He can barely breathe, the room suddenly seeming hot and stuffy and claustrophobic.

“What are you saying?” Sebastian asks carefully.

“I’m not sure,” Christian says honestly. “I’m thinking out loud.”

Sebastian watches him like he expects the rug to be pulled from under him at any second. “And what are you thinking?”

Christian looks down at Matthew. Does he love him? That’s such a huge question, the enormity of it ensuring that he’ll probably never answer it to his own satisfaction. He wants what’s best for him. He wants him to be happy, to grow up without doubts, to get everything he ever wants and somehow not be spoilt by it.

Does Christian see himself being a part of that? Matthew will always represent some of Christian’s worst qualities; short-sighted drunken idiocy, his pubescent battles with who he was and what that meant, his foolish pride that makes him unable to admit when he needs help, his stubborn, selfish streak that makes him so unwilling to compromise. It’s a damning portrait, but he knows that’s not all he is. He has a lot of things that he needs to sort out in his own head, demons he needs to reconcile himself with, and it’s going to be a long journey, but he feels like he’s ready to take the first step and maybe he needs to stop for a moment and give himself credit for that.

He looks up at Sebastian who’s still watching him carefully. Christian has to be sure, he reminds himself. Life is so full of uncertainties though, promises so hard to keep. All he can do is say it out loud and hope they can work it out together from there.

“Do you think Hanna would do it?”

Sebastian opens his mouth, his eyebrows knitting together, before he laughs. He doesn’t look very amused, more shocked. “Are you serious? You better be fucking serious.”

Christian looks back down at Matthew. “I thought you said we shouldn’t swear in front of him.”

“Christian,” Sebastian says incredulously. Christian looks back up at him. “Are you... are you serious?” Christian shrugs and nods his head. “No really,” Sebastian says. “Are you really really serious? Because you can’t do this to me.”

“No, I mean it,” Christian assures him. “It’s an option, right? It’s... it’s something worth thinking about.” Sebastian just carries on studying him like he has no idea what to say. Christian looks down at Matthew again. “Do you know why it didn’t work out with any of those parents?” Christian asks. “I used you as the standard and not one of them measured up. I know I don’t measure up either.”

“Stop saying that,” Sebastian tells him.

“So maybe I’m not cut out to be a single parent, but that doesn’t mean I can’t look after him in other ways,” Christian says. “It doesn’t have to be all or nothing, right?”

Sebastian looks at him. “Right.” He pauses. “I think.” He shakes his head. “What are we talking about here?”

“Well, what about if you and Hanna, together, what if you took care of him?” Christian suggests. “Do you think that’s an option?”

Sebastian suddenly looks like he’s about to burst, eyes filled with joy, but there’s a part of him that’s still guarded, that isn’t quite willing to trust what he’s hearing yet. “Yeah,” he says. “Of course it’s an option. Yeah. Yes.”

Christian smiles slightly at the way he falls over himself to answer. “Okay,” he says. “Here’s what we should do. Go back to Switzerland, talk to Hanna, talk a lot. This is a big thing to ask of someone, it’s a big commitment.”

Sebastian shrugs. “She always wanted a big commitment.” He leans down on his elbow again, talking to Matthew. “You like Hanna, right, Matty? Shall we keep her? Hmm? What do you think?”

Christian gives a small laugh, even as he shakes his head. “You two are made for each other.”

Sebastian touches the side of Matthew’s face. “Yeah.” He looks up at Christian, a grin breaking across his face, expression filled with so much relief and gratitude. He sits up, leaning over Matthew’s body to hug Christian, placing a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you. You’re doing the right thing. I won’t let you regret this.”

Back to back races means that Sebastian is away for nearly two full weeks. Christian doesn’t mind, he has plenty of things to sort out. He rings Sandy at the adoption agency and explains the situation to her, apologising for wasting her time. Maybe he imagines it but she seems almost pleased. Christian suspects that she always knew he wasn’t going to give the baby away. He talks to the lawyer about dropping the custody battle and what needs to happen for Hanna to become a legal guardian.

It’s a weight lifted from his shoulders, having the decision made, and he finds that he can enjoy Matthew more now that he doesn’t feel the huge responsibility of having another person’s life entirely in his hands. He’s more relaxed with him and he starts to find those tiny joys he always sees Sebastian revelling in, the subtle expressions that he’d never known how to look for. When Matthew copies Christian’s facial expression for the first time, Christian feels kind of like a superhero.

He talks to Hanna a couple of times over those two weeks and when he hears the way she talks about Matthew he’s certain he’s made the right decision. It’s not just that though, it’s the way she talks about Sebastian, and Christian kind of can’t believe Sebastian might have actually let this slip through his fingers if it wasn’t for the baby.

It’s hard though and the days feel long. Matthew might have the ability to make him smile now, but Christian doesn’t feel fulfilled by the constant rotation of nappies and bottles and soothing he has to do. This is never what he pictured for himself and he knows it’s not enough. He tries not to feel guilty about that fact. He’s found the solution that works out best for everyone, and he thinks that might make him a better parent than most.

When the day comes, Christian has trouble deciding what he needs to pack for Matthew. He only really needs a nappy bag with the essentials to get him over to Switzerland, Sebastian and Hanna have everything they need for him there, but somehow that doesn’t feel like enough. He tries to think if Matthew has a favourite outfit, a favourite toy, but how can someone who’s barely nine weeks old show a preference for anything? Maybe Christian just wasn’t paying enough attention.

In the end, Christian only packs the practical things. Sebastian barely pays attention to what he’s being handed anyway, he’s more interested in getting his hands on the baby. Christian goes upstairs to fetch him from his nap. He lifts him carefully from the crib and it seems so strange that it’s the last time he’ll be doing this for a while. He holds the baby close to him, looking around the room and trying to work out if there’s anything he’s forgotten. Matthew coos and gurgles in his arms, so much more vocal now, and sometimes it seems like he’s trying to tell Christian something. The thought of a nursery without a child seems sad and Christian has to take a deep breath and remind himself of everything he’s moving towards.

He carries Matthew downstairs, placing him in his carseat and strapping him in, ready for his trip to the airport. Sebastian is quiet on the sofa but Christian is sure that he’s watching him. Maybe he should have said goodbye upstairs; he feels self-conscious now.

“Well,” he says to Matthew, the word threatening to stick in his throat. He feels his eyes well up. What is he supposed to say in a situation like this? In the end he just leans forward and kisses Matthew on the forehead. “Bye, kid.” He stands up, feeling slightly wobbly as he turns to Sebastian. “All yours.”

Sebastian smiles but his eyes look kind of sad. “Not _all_ mine,” he says, getting to his feet. “You’re still his...” He hesitates, not sure how to finish that sentence.

“Uncle Christian,” Christian provides. He looks down at Matthew. “Who he stays with sometimes.”

“Any time you want,” Sebastian promises. Christian looks up at him and smiles. “So I’ll see you at the track?”

“I need to go talk to Dietrich,” Christian says. “I’ll be back before the end of the year.”

“You better make it soon,” Sebastian tells him. “Adrian’s going crazy without you.”

“Tell him to hang in there,” Christian says. “I’m working on it.”

He goes to see Dietrich in Austria during the Indian Grand Prix weekend, knowing that Marko will be out of the way and unable to interfere. Christian’s not willing to get into a power struggle over something as important as this. He and Dietrich have always seen eye to eye and he knows that Dietrich will be fair to him. He took a chance on Christian all those years ago and Christian has repaid him with multiple championships. It’s no surprise when it’s agreed that he can return to the paddock for the remaining two races of the season, even if he’s told he’ll be given ‘light duties’ to begin with. His foot is back in the door and that’s all he cares about. He’s never given Dietrich any reason to doubt him and he’s certain he can be back in control of the team by January.

He arrives in Austin early, making sure he’s up to date on everything and has made all the preparations he can before things really get started on Thursday. From the moment Marko arrives he’s breathing down Christian’s neck, looking over his shoulder the whole time like he expects him to mess up, but Christian refuses to rise to it. He keeps his head down and gets on with his job, showing nothing but professionalism.

All the hard work pays off and they secure a Red Bull front row lock out on Saturday afternoon and Christian feels that familiar buzz that never gets old. This is where he belongs. He sits in the motorhome, tired but exhilarated, the long hours lending a different kind of exhaustion to looking after a newborn baby. Sebastian approaches him, offering a smile before dropping into the seat opposite him.

“How’s the probation going?” he asks.

Christian gives him a look. “It’s not probation, it’s a phased return,” he states wearily. “I was on sick leave, I didn’t get a disciplinary.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Same thing to Marko I think.”

“You might be right there,” Christian mutters, raising his eyebrows.

Sebastian looks at him for a moment. “How are you doing?”

“Good,” Christian says, a little smile creeping over his lips. “I’m doing good.”

“Yeah, well, you’ve been missed,” Sebastian says. “Wasn’t the same without you.”

Christian nods, looking around the room, everyone coming and going, always a job to be done. He’s missed this productivity, this sense of purpose.

“Do you want to see something cool?” Sebastian asks, a sparkle in his eye.

“Okay,” Christian agrees.

Sebastian takes his phone from his pocket, flicking through it until he finds what he’s looking for. He turns the screen towards Christian to display a photo of Matthew. He’s wearing what looks to be a tiny little replica of a Red Bull racesuit, complete with all the sponsor logos. Across the middle the word _Matty_ is embroidered. Christian laughs, shaking his head slightly.

“Hanna made it,” Sebastian says proudly, turning the phone back towards himself.

“I’m glad you’re both taking parenthood so seriously,” Christian says dryly.

Sebastian puts the phone away. “If I win the championship tomorrow I might ask her to marry me.”

“Don’t do that,” Christian says. “That’s tacky, you can’t ask her because you win the championship. And she’s how many thousands of miles away? You can’t propose to someone like that.”

Sebastian pouts slightly. “She likes it when I win championships.”

“I’m sure she does,” Christian agrees. “But I’m sure she’d like a real proposal more.”

“Christian, you got a minute?” Adrian calls across the room.

Christian nods. “I’ll speak to you later,” he tells Sebastian, getting to his feet. “And can you send me a copy of that photo?”

Sebastian laughs, sliding his phone back out of his pocket. “Done.”

Sebastian does win the championship the next day, his fourth in a row. Christian’s not sure how much credit he can take for it, he hasn’t been here to help much, but he admires Sebastian for keeping his head in what’s been such a tough year for him personally. The party is predictably loud and rowdy and Christian finds himself swept up in it all.

“You should probably go easy on the champagne, mate,” Mark tells him. “Remember what happened last time?”

Christian gives him a disapproving look but he stops after his second glass anyway. He doesn’t need the alcohol to feel high right now. He bumps into Sebastian who can’t stop grinning and hugging everyone. He puts his arm around Christian’s shoulder, talking into his ear to be heard over the music.

“I’m not going to ask Hanna to marry me tonight,” he says. “I’m going to wait. Make it special.”

Christian nods. “Good idea.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees. “You shouldn’t rush the things that matter to you. You should make sure that you get them exactly right.”

Brazil is another good finish for them and they end the season on a high. Christian’s certain he’s done enough to ensure he’s fully reinstated for the following season. Only a fool would try to split his team up; they have something really special.

During the winter break, Christian finally feels like he has time to breathe and take stock. He asks to look after Matthew for the weekend and takes him to finally meet his parents. They’re thrilled, even though it’s complicated and Christian’s not yet sure of his own role in Matthew’s life, let alone who they might be to him, but he’s not going to cut them out anymore if they want to be a part of this.

His looking after Matthew becomes a semi-regular arrangement. At first he takes him once every six weeks which turns into once every month which ends up more like once every three weeks as the year goes on. He sticks with being Uncle Christian; he wants Hanna and Sebastian to be mum and dad and the truth is too confusing for a child anyway. They’ve talked about it though, what they might tell Matthew when he’s old enough to ask, but Christian hasn’t quite found a satisfactory answer to that question yet. He’s happy with his place in Matthew’s life and he doesn’t want to ruin it with over thinking.

Matthew attends his first ever Grand Prix in Belgium on the occasion of his first birthday. It feels strange for Christian to be back here. It feels like another life now, running the track and going into labour, all the pain and confusion and fear. On Thursday evening he runs the track again, the twilight air cool around him, and as he goes by the point where the cramps had made him stop a year ago, he feels as though he can finally let it all go.

He’s sitting on the pitwall on Friday morning, looking over some data, when he notices Hanna approaching him, Matthew balanced on her hip. It’s still early, the first practice nowhere near due, so he abandons his task easily, turning to face them. As soon as they get close, Matthew leans away from Hanna’s body, holding his arms out towards Christian.

“Cwisti, Cwisti,” Matthew says excitedly, his baby talk version of Christian. He might not have quite mastered it yet but Christian’s touched by the effort. It was his fourth word, right behind _mama_ , _papa_ and, predictably, _auto_.

Christian smiles at him and scoops him up, sitting him on his knee.

“Good morning, Matty,” he says, placing a kiss on the top of his head.

“He insisted,” Hanna shrugs.

“Not a problem,” Christian replies easily. Matthew plays with the cord from Christian’s headphones that are resting around his neck. “We should get you a set,” Christian says, lifting them off and placing them onto Matthew’s head where they balance lopsidedly. Matthew looks up at Christian and giggles. “You can help us with our strategy.” He reaches for the clipboard, placing it in front of Matthew. “What do you think?” Matthew bangs his hand against the sheet of data. “That’s what Adrian was saying earlier,” Christian agrees.

Hanna laughs. Christian takes the headphones off Matthew, placing them aside. Hanna reaches out, combing her fingers through Matthew’s mop of blond hair, straightening out the strands. The diamond in her ring shines in the sunlight.

“I hope you’re not holding your breath about walking up the aisle,” he says, nodding towards it. “It took him a year to give you the ring.”

Hanna looks at him. “He said he was going to propose in America last year,” she says pointedly. “He said you talked him out of it?”

“Did you really want a marriage proposal over the phone?” Christian asks.

Hanna looks at her ring and smiles. “No.”

Sebastian took her away for a week during the summer break, just the two of them, and he’d done it all properly, down on one knee, the whole works. Christian had looked after Matthew, the longest stretch he’d had him for since he’d given up parental duties to Hanna and Sebastian. It cemented his love of being Uncle Christian; he got to do all the fun things with Matthew and spoil him rotten while someone else had to deal with the crippling responsibility of all the hard decisions.

“Come on then, Matty,” Hanna says. “Time to go. Uncle Christian will be at your birthday party tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Christian agrees. “If daddy gets pole I might even let him have some cake.”

Hanna lifts Matthew back up to rest on her hip. “Say bye bye,” she prompts.

Matthew leans forward, practically falling out of Hanna’s arms as he places a sloppy kiss on the side of Christian’s face. Christian can’t help but smile. Matthew waves with a chubby hand and Christian waves back, watching them walk across the pitlane before turning back to his work. The best of both worlds.


End file.
